Once Upon a Time and Again
by KayleeThePete
Summary: AU, post-curse story. "I'm going to work to win your heart, Snow," he told her, or maybe he was warning her. He saw her suck in a breath. "I want you and I want forever." Charming/Snow Ella/Thomas Belle/OC Red/? Aurora/Phillip and many other characters
1. Prologue: All a Dream

This is a post-curse, possibility that won't leave me alone. So, like, hate, whatever. If you all are at all interested in seeing more beyond this, let me know.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I have no idea how the curse is going to end, or what is going to happen. That said, everything belongs to their respective owners: ABC, Kitsis and Harrowitz, whoever owns _Ever After_, C.S. Lewis, Jane Austen and any other wonderful books, movies, shows that I end up borrowing from; not me.

EDIT 3/19/12: I changed the names I made up for characters that hadn't come up in the series when I began this to match the ones they use in OUAT. Namely at this point Snow's father, Leopold, and Regina's.

**Once Upon a Time…and Again**

**Prologue: All a Dream**

The white light grew brighter and brighter and spread farther and farther, slowly encompassing all of the weary, and many dying, fighters. Those who were able looked around anxiously.

The light continued to brighten; it was becoming blinding and soon they had to close their eyes against it, praying that this was the end of the curse they had hoped and fought for.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was the deep of night; quiet and serenity reigned in their kingdom with naught a shiver of trouble. But then it was shattered; all over the Enchanted Forest people shot up, awake in bed. Vague shadows of dreams, and disturbingly strong feelings with no rhyme or reason haunted them.

Snow White took a deep breath, clutching her quilt around her; she stared at the wall across from her unseeingly. She could not clearly remember what the dream had been about, but she remembered fear, insecurity, all-consuming love, heartbreak, and a shade of blue she didn't even know could exist.

James's hand had automatically gone to his sword; his eyes had scanned the room for a threat, but soon realized that it was only in his mind. He lay back, staring at the ceiling; remembering feelings of being lost, confused, a love beyond anything he could imagine, pain, and the scent of cinnamon and chocolate.

Regina's eyes swept the room, regaining bearings that had, for some reason, been tossed asunder; she turned to see her husband sleeping soundly beside her. She eased herself back onto the bed, frowning at the ceiling; remembering rage, fear, pain, a desperate need to lash out, and a darkness blacker than night.

Ella looked around the kitchen from her position by the fireplace; everything was as it always had been. She stared into the dying embers. Remembered feelings of joy, abiding love, fear, loneliness, desperation, and a baby's cry floated through her head.

Thomas's gaze looked over his familiar room, seeing nothing out of place; he shifted so that he was sitting with his back against the headboard. Memories of shame, yearning, wonder, the sweetest love, hope, and golden locks dancing in the wind lingered in his heart.

Calm settled once more o're the land. Our intrepid friends slowly sink back into the arms of Morpheus. But not for long shall they slumber in life. For fate and destiny will not be denied. And true love always finds a way.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So this is the start of what is supposed to be an "after the curse" story, though it could also be a "there never was a curse" story after this chapter for the most part. If anyone is interested I'll continue, otherwise I'll leave it here. I may add more characters to this prologue and the rest of the story as the TV series goes on and I get a better feel for them, but at the moment this handful of characters are the only ones that I have a grasp on. I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading!

EDIT: I changed "Clara's" name to Regina since we now know that that's her name in FTL.


	2. Chapter 1: Fate Begins Spinning Her Web

Several thank you's to give: To all of the people who reviewed, faved and alerted, thank you so much for that and for encouraging me to continue this story. To my beta, **Tinian I'att**, for looking over this and making corrections, thank you so much!

So hopefully this first chapter will answer a lot of question I was asked in reviews. I hope that you all like it!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 1: Fate Begins Spinning Her Web**

Princess Snow White carried a basket of fruit through the village. Three servants from the castle followed behind her each with a large basket as well. The village was always alive with activity, but it had been especially so the last few days and would be for the next week at least. The spring festival was upon them and everyone was hurrying about preparing for the coming celebrations.

Snow headed around to the back entrance of Granny's Inn and Pub. The owner had closed the dining portion of the business so that the staff could focus on preparations for the coming festivities. Snow walked through the door into the kitchen, gesturing for the men to wait just outside.

"Red!" she called out, looking around the kitchen, which was a bustle with activity, clouded with steam and smoke; the din from the clatter of kitchenware and raised voices was substantial.

A figure moved through the crowd; a woman, a few years younger than Snow, with long, straight dark hair tied back in a braid, wearing a scarlet dress with a white blouse under it. A grin lit her face in recognition. "Snow!"

The princess embraced her friend. "It's a mad house in here," she commented as they pulled apart.

Red nodded, glancing at the activity around her. "Always is during one of the festivals."

Snow grinned, shifting the basket from where she had propped it on her hip to place it in a free space on a counter. "I brought plenty of fruit for you and Gran." She gestured to the three men waiting outside.

Red let out a sigh of relief at seeing the large baskets brimming with fruit and moved over to pick up a pear from her friend's basket. "Thank you!" She looked at Snow. "We were worried about being able to make enough pies and pastries."

A twinkle entered the princess's eyes. "That's not all." She waved one of the men inside, plucked one of the fruits from the top, and presented it with a grand bow to the other woman, who gasped.

"Is that what I think it is?" Red was staring at the object in disbelief.

Snow grinned. "Regina's honey crisp apples."

The other woman reverently reached out and took the apple. "How did you get them?" she looked at her friend with some suspicion.

The princess gave her a look of injured innocence. "Why would you ever think that I _did_ something?"

Red leveled her with a look. They both held their expressions for a moment, but soon doubled over laughing at childhood memories of shared mischief.

Snow swiped a tear from the corner of her eye and shook her head mirthfully. "Point taken, but this time I truly didn't do anything." Red still looked at her skeptically. Snow raised her hands in innocence. "Honestly! For some reason Regina was feeling particularly generous and since the apple trees have been doing so well she decided to donate a few bushels."

Red raised her eyebrows and shook her head, staring down at the apple in her hand. The whole kingdom knew of the queen's famous apples, the best in the realm, possibly_ any_ realm. She placed it in the basket on the table. "Well, give her my thanks."

"I'll do that," Snow replied though she didn't look particularly thrilled about the prospect.

Red's narrowed eyes snapped to her friend; Snow reluctantly lifted her own and they shared a look. Red briskly directed the palace servants where to set the baskets; then shooed them back to the castle, leaving the pair to "chat".

Red set about making tea, while Snow got a pair of mugs from a cupboard; they made their way out of the kitchen, into the deserted pub and sat down at a table.

After she had poured them each a cup of tea, Red leveled a concerned look at the woman who was like an older sister to her. "Now tell me, are things really that bad between you and Queen Regina?"

Snow grimaced, taking a sip. "No," she sighed, setting the mug down. "I mean." She looked up at her friend. "You know we've never liked each other, but we tolerate each other for Father's sake. And we _mostly_ manage to get along."

Red gave her a piercing look. "So you two are still only really speaking when absolutely necessary?"

The princess nodded; then shrugged. "Generally that seems to work for us. We don't fight or anything, we just don't talk."

Her friend nodded, taking a contemplative sip. "So what has you less inclined than usual to talk to her?"

Snow rolled her eyes, pursing her lips, as she seemed to try to decide how to answer; Red just sat patiently, waiting.

Finally, the princess took a deep breath and sighed. "You know of the neighboring kingdom, Seaborn?"

The other woman nodded. "It's the only kingdom larger than ours land-wise, though it easily outstrips us in population, and you mentioned that it's a major hub of trade and commerce. What of it?"

Snow slowly spun her mug on the table. "The king and queen are coming to visit." Red was about to ask what the big deal was when the princess continued, "They're bringing their elder, _unmarried_ son."

Red made an "Oh" face, understanding dawning on her. "And your stepmother has been pushing for a match between the two of you?"

The royal winced but shook her head. "No, my father wouldn't set up an arranged marriage for me…however she _has_ been extolling the virtues of such a match to me every chance she gets."

Red grimaced, taking a drink. "I'm sorry. When are they due to arrive?"

Snow wrapped her suddenly chilled hands around her cup. "Tomorrow."

Her friend reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you can spend the rest of today and as much of tomorrow as you can helping here," she offered, knowing that the princess liked keeping busy. "Goodness knows we could use the extra set of hands, and it should keep you from having to be around the queen and her 'talks' too much."

Snow smirked. "I was hoping you'd say that."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Prince James stared at the ring he was grasping between his thumb and index finger. The emerald sparkled, and the gold of the band glinted in the sunlight. It wasn't an ornate ring; in fact, it was quite simplistic, but somehow its simplicity made it all the more beautiful. Normally James would have admired its beauty, but at the moment, all he really wanted to do was cast the damn thing into the sea.

"I could be wrong, but I don't think that ring's going to get up and dance if you keep staring at it, big brother."

James turned at the amused voice; his younger brother, Thomas, stood in the doorway to his room. James smirked at him. "You never know little brother."

Thomas grinned, walking toward him; he pointed at the ring. "I also don't think that your glaring at it is going to incinerate it either," he told him sardonically.

James scowled, moving over to the table beside his bed and tucking the ring away in the drawer.

The younger man shook his head. "What has you so mad at Mother's ring?"

James grimaced and went back to packing his bag. "Not really at the ring, but more at what it is meant for."

Thomas shrugged. "You've had it for years now; why so ireful today?"

His older brother braced his hands on a table, leaning against it and staring out the window. "You know this trip to Everland?" Thomas nodded. "The king has a daughter…his _only_ child," he added significantly, and glanced at his brother over his shoulder

Realization dawned and the younger brother winced. "And since they are our closest neighbor and second in size and power only to us…" He frowned thoughtfully. "I hadn't remembered that the king had a daughter."

James shrugged. "No real reason_ to_ remember her. She doesn't participate in High Court life; as far as I know she rarely even leaves her kingdom."

Thomas's frown deepened. "Does her family keep her cloistered?"

His brother shook his head. "From what I understand it is entirely of her own choosing; if anything I've heard that her father indulges her whims and lets her stay out of the greater-public eye."

The younger man canted his head to the side. "Her mother died when she was young, didn't she?"

"Yes," James nodded. "The king only remarried again a few years ago, but they've had no children of their own, so far."

"So Mother and Father are hoping for a merger?" Thomas asked.

"They're not going to _force_ anything," James responded, the implications of the real situation clear in his voice. "But they have made it clear that their preference would either be her or," he made a disgusted face, "Abigail."

Thomas's face quickly took on a matching look of disgust.

Alisha was a beautiful, blond princess from another neighboring, _much_ smaller, though cash wealthy, kingdom ruled by King Midas. She was also a very prim, snotty little thing; for some reason the phrase "the nag with the bad attitude" always came to mind for James when he thought of her, and it was truthfully quite apropos.

"So your choices are a princess whom you know nothing about other than she is extremely reclusive or one whom you _know_ is a prissy, annoying snob," Thomas summed up.

"More or less," James agreed.

His brother looked at him for several moments; then clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, good luck with your marital bliss."

James shoved him. "Thanks!" he scoffed. "You're just lucky to be the second-born."

Thomas grinned at him, not disagreeing in the least.

James's scowl melted into a smile; he gripped Thomas's shoulder. "Promise me that you'll marry for love, little brother."

His brother gave him a strange look. "I hadn't planned anything else."

The older man nodded a regretful expression on his face. "One of us should be permitted to."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow spent the rest of the day rushing around the Inn and anywhere else, she could find where someone needed her help. She had sent word of what she was doing up to the castle; she knew her father would not be surprised since it was more her habit to spend her days in the village or woods among their people anyway.

Her family had always been a rather informal royal family when it came to day-to-day life, only really standing on ceremony during special occasions. Perhaps Snow was more to the extreme side of it, but as her father saw it, if working hard alongside their people to set up the celebration made her happy, he wouldn't say anything against it. The people might never say it but they loved Snow and her family all the more for their ability to step down and mingle among them regularly, and showed it through their utter devotion to the crown; and they were devoted to no one more than they were to the princess.

Snow missed dinner up at the castle– perhaps it was a little more by design than she allowed her father and stepmother to think –and ended up just grabbing a sandwich with Red between hanging decorations and boiling meat. By the time, she returned to the castle it was quite late and her father and Regina had already gone to bed. Snow collapsed into her own canopy bed and was asleep almost instantly.

The next morning she was up before dawn, as she was most every day. She quietly went down the stairs and crept into the kitchen for a quick breakfast before she headed back to the village. With so small a royal family the staff didn't generally get up this early, but with the visitors coming that evening a few more than usual were up and about making preparations. The kitchen was abuzz with preparations with all of the kitchen staff scurrying around. Hannah, the head cook, was among the few who normally rose early; she clucked over Snow heading off again so early as she set a bowl of oatmeal sprinkled with chocolate and cinnamon, and a coffee with cream, sugar and, again, cinnamon and chocolate, before the princess. Hannah continued to cluck her tongue over Snow's clothing, a brown skirt, a green laced up bodice and white blouse underneath; she was dressed like most commoners, though the fabric was of higher quality. Snow rolled her eyes fondly at the woman who had been like a surrogate mother to her since the death of her real mother.

The room suddenly became very quiet, drawing the attention of cook and princess.

Queen Regina stood in the doorway. Looking as aloof and cool as ever, she approached her stepdaughter the staff scattering in her wake. Hannah stepped back, but kept a watchful eye on the young woman at the table.

Snow set her spoon down beside her bowl and kept her eyes on her stepmother.

Regina came to a stop directly beside Snow. "You're going out again today." It wasn't a question.

"I am," Snow responded simply.

The queen eyed her. "Make sure you're back in time to clean up to meet our guests," she instructed.

The princess nodded.

They stared at each other for a few moments longer before the dark haired, statuesque queen turned and regally swept out of the room.

There was a general sigh of relief from everyone in the kitchen. No one _dis_liked Queen Regina, per se, but they were nowhere near as comfortable around her as they were with Princess Snow and King Leopold, and the queen seemed to prefer it that way.

Snow continued to stare after her stepmother; Hannah nudged her gently, getting the princess's attention. "Eat up, love. It's going to be a long day."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had spent most of the first day in the carriage trying to ignore his parents' none-too-subtle hints suggesting that if he "happened to fall in love" with the princess it would be "quite an acceptable match". He had a throbbing headache by the time they arrived at the home of one of the local barons, who thankfully only had three sons and no daughters, for the night.

James was friends with the eldest of the sons and managed to get his parents to agree to him riding out with him to see another friend nearby for a few hours the next morning before catching up to them. He was in no hurry to reach them though and it was already mid-afternoon. He decided to stop and eat the lunch the cook had packed for him.

James settled against a tree by the side of the road. He wasn't all that far from Everland's castle really, and would likely find his parents in less than an hour after he set off again.

He pulled out the bread, cheese, slices of meat and skin of water; taking a particularly long drink after the long, hot ride. He cut off a slice of cheese and leaned back against the tree, staring up at the canopy, through which he could see the sun shimmering. James loved the forest; had always been comfortable in it. He had driven his parents insane growing up, constantly disappearing into the woods for hours at a time, and reappearing filthy, but uninjured and quite happy.

What he would give for a woman who loved and was as comfortable as he was in the forest, a woman who would not mind riding out and getting lost for days at a time, just the two of them, oh how he wished for such a woman.

He shook off such thoughts, knowing them to be foolish; no such woman existed, as least none he could marry.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was hiking back to the village. She had gone out to see the seven dwarf brothers, who were in dire need of domestic help. She had just spent four hours helping undo the mess that Doc's "mechanical clothes washer" had made, and then another hour convincing him that, no, he did _not_ need to try the machine again, _or_ try to fix it. Heaven help them all. She loved those seven sweet men, but they did at times inspire the need to pull her hair out. She promised herself that she would start looking for a young woman to become their maid, but until then she mentally began planning times when she could stop by and check in on the chores around their home.

She continued along, only a few yards off the road. She looked up at the canopy of trees, watching the sunlight dapple the leafy foliage. She grinned, closing her eyes, allowing the filtered light to shine down on her face. She loved the forest, always had. After her mother's death, her father spent hours in the woods surrounding the castle with Snow, teaching her about its ways, animals, and survival in it. In his grief, he lost himself in the leafy depths. In raising his daughter, his methods were a bit unorthodox compared to others considering that he taught her sword fighting, archery and how to throw a knife. Her more feminine lessons would have likely been lost had it not been for Hannah and some of the other staff members who stepped in and made sure she learnt all that was necessary for a woman to know: singing, sewing, spinning thread, managing a household, cooking, etc. It was actually a fairly balanced childhood, but different from the kind most princesses had.

As she grew up, Snow's father remained perfectly content to allow her to have a great deal of freedom; it wasn't until he remarried that she knew any real fetter. When he married Regina, Snow was already 16-almost-17 years old, getting toward an age where marriage is soon to become an option, and Regina was quite vocal about the princess getting married sooner rather than later. Snow liked her freedom too well to wish for a husband, but as the years passed, she began to look on the children in the village, whom she had always been fond of, differently; she began to feel a longing for children of her own. She thought that if she could perhaps have a husband who would be fine with her being free and independent of him, and if they could have children together, all would be well. She believed that was exactly the kind of man she wanted, not that she believed such a man existed; as such, she had come to an impasse in herself; she could have either her liberty, or a family, not both.

Oh how she longed for both.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The forest was quiet save for the soft chirping of birds and leaves rustling in the wind; it made for a pleasant ride. James enjoyed the solitude, allowing himself to soak up the peace before his arrival at Everland castle shoved him back into the less than pleasant reality of matchmaking among royals.

Shouts shattered the serenity of the wood.

He pulled his horse to a stop and looked around for the source of the distressed sounds in the thick greenery.

Several yards ahead, a woman came stumbling out of the trees toward the road. A hand and head appeared just behind her, grabbing her ankle and causing her to fall. She caught herself with her hands and, hardly missing a beat, looked back kicking the man in the face, causing him to howl in pain and release her. She got back to her feet, but by that time, more men had emerged and were swarming her.

She had pulled a knife from somewhere and now held it out in front of her; James could see fiery determination in her eyes. "Stay the hell away from me!" she snarled at them. The men cackled at her.

James spurred his horse forward and swung down once he was a few feet away, pulling his sword and leveling it at the men. "I believe the lady told you to stay away from her," he commented lightly.

There were about eight men total in the group; James was rather impressed that she had held them off long enough to get to the road.

The group looked back and forth between the woman and James, trying to decide whether they could take him.

Their decision became apparent when several of them charged the prince.

That was their big mistake.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was mentally cursing her bad luck and the fates, fickle bitches that they were. She was running, when the bastards who decided that she would make easy pickings weren't tripping her up. She had proved otherwise, but their sheer number and size was too much even for her in such close quarters. While she could wield a sword and dagger, they were not her specialty. Put a bow in her hands or give her the space to throw the dagger, then she revealed how deadly she could be. She was fighting her way to the road, praying that the fates weren't so unkind that they wouldn't send someone by on the well-traversed by-way.

Her kingdom was generally one of the safest in the realm, little crime or violence. Occasionally, however, they got a group of transient thugs that passed through making trouble during their stay, but the guard quickly ran them down or out of the kingdom. She bet that the upcoming festival, and the tourists that it drew, had drawn them to the area.

A hand grabbed her arm; blindly she struck out with her other fist, making a solid connection and kept running.

As she spilled out onto the side of the road, a hand grabbed her ankle, tripping her up. She looked back and kicked the man square in his ugly face; she was quite gratified to hear the crunch and howl of pain accompanying it, signaling that she broke his nose. She took the opportunity to grab her knife from her boot as she got back up. She spun around to face the men who came rushing out after her, holding her knife and free hand up in defensive positions. She still might not have the distance she wished, but at least now she had room to maneuver and possibly the space to run. As they began advancing on her, she snarled at them, "Stay the hell away from me!" The part of her mind not occupied with defending herself amusedly imagined the horrified look on Regina's face if she heard Snow use such language.

Just then, a horse and rider galloped right up to them; the rider smoothly dismounted and without breaking stride pulled out his sword. "I believe the lady told you to stay away from her," he calmly remarked, as if he were simply speaking of the weather.

The thugs seemed to consider their options, looking back and forth between her and the man.

She held her breath, praying that they would walk away and she could just thank the stranger, be on her way, and report the gang to her father, who would send his men to take care of it.

Life, however, was never so easy.

As several of the men went after her would-be-savior, the rest continued to advance on her. Yes, the fates were truly feeling like fickle bitches today.

Snow slid one foot back into a ready stance, bracing herself for the fight to come.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The men had crudely made weapons and relied mostly on brute strength, size and numbers when fighting, and they had James on all of the above…but this wasn't his first run-in with such tactics, and they underestimated him.

To say that he dispatched them with ease would be a lie, but after the grueling training he had undergone growing up, this wasn't the hardest fight he had ever been in. When he had dispatched all but one of the men who had come after him, he glanced over at the woman. He was pleasantly surprised to see her still fighting off her attackers, and as he watched, she pulled another knife and threw it with deadly accuracy at one of the men who went down instantly. She was smaller, faster, and more agile than they were and she used those things to her advantage, ducking and weaving through them.

After he had taken care of his last attacker, James ran over and joined the fray with the woman.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow fought tooth and nail to protect herself, but she could feel her body tiring quickly from taking and receiving blows and from running. There were fewer gang members now than at the beginning, but her adrenaline-fueled body and fatigued mind were blurring things substantially.

One man tackled her to the ground, knocking her knife out of her hand, and she began grappling with the giant atop her. She groped ground around her and her hand closed over a rock. She struck out at him, heard and felt the rock connect with flesh; he staggered away with a groan. As he scrambled back, he kicked dirt into Snow's eyes. Her lids slammed shut at the rude introduction of the particles and she cried out. Rolling over to her hands and knees, she tried to blink away the grains while tears welled up in her eyes.

A hand grasped her shoulder and she swung the rock she was still holding blindly at the person. There was a grunt of pain, and soft cursing as the person pulled away. The dirt had finally cleared enough from her eyes for her to see; she turned to face her attacker, rock still in hand.

It was the man who had helped her. He was sitting on the ground a couple of feet from her and had raised a hand to his chin; upon pulling it away, she saw blood from a cut where the rock had split the skin. Snow wasn't big on guilt, but she sure felt guilty right then.

"I'm so sorry," she managed to gasp out, dropping the rock and reaching toward him to help.

He dodged her reaching hand. "Is that how you thank all the men who save your life?"

Well there went the guilt. Now, she was angry. Snow scowled at him, pulling her hand back. "Well, aren't _you _a real Prince Charming," she snapped.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"I said I was sorry. They attacked me and I couldn't see; I had no idea it was you. I was defending myself." She raised her chin. "And anyway, I would have been fine even if you hadn't come along." James could tell that she was lying and she knew it.

He gave her a clearly disbelieving look. "Right," he said sarcastically. "You were perfectly fine with _eight_ men who were twice your size attacking you."

"Precisely, Charming," she returned in an equally caustic voice, standing and dusting herself off.

Something about her in such a pique appealed to him and had James smiling. "I have a name, you know," he told her as he stood.

"Don't care," she told him immediately, her eyes flashing. "'Charming' suits you."

The grin on his face became wider.

Something flashed through her eyes and the ire on her face lessened for a moment, but it was back almost immediately. "Wipe that stupid grin off of your face," she snapped at him as she moved to retrieve her knives.

James observed her; she was beautiful, even under the dirt, mud, and grass stains. She had ebony hair that the braid she had it in barely held in check, quite a few strands had escaped to curl around the sides of her face; her eyes were a bewitching, piercing hazel; her skin was pale white with naturally rosy cheeks. She moved with a gracefulness that wasn't the practiced one most women displayed; instead it was thoughtless and natural. She was dressed in a common style dress, though the fabric was of a better quality than most peasants could afford; perhaps she was the daughter of a well-off merchant. He also noted that she was favoring her left hand and right leg slightly, but trying to cover it.

He followed her, whistling to his horse as he did; when the animal came close enough he grasped the reins and turned back to the young woman. "May I give you a ride to where you're going?"

"Nope," she said firmly, tucking her last knife away, and turning to look at him with a haughty expression. "I can take care of myself, just fine."

He raised his eyebrows, a sardonic expression on his face. "Mm, indeed, I noticed."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you insulting me?"

James smirked. "Quite right, my apologies, how _dare_ I cast aspersions at the person who _hit me with a rock_ after I helped save her life and just offered to assist her _again_."

She continued to glare at him.

"I could have just ridden on, you know," he pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Not stopped and helped."

She pressed her lips together giving him a piercing look; he waited for her response. Then she quirked her mouth to the side and shook her head negatively with an "Mmh mm."

He raised both eyebrows again. "No?"

"Nope," she stated firmly. "You couldn't have done any such thing."

He canted his head slightly at her. "And why, pray tell, _not_?"

"Honor." One word, that truthfully summed up why, as she said, he couldn't have just gone on and not helped her. She moved to stand less than a foot in front of him. "You're too honorable to just move on when a person is in trouble."

They stood there for several moments, eyes locked, unable to look away.

She had, he decided, the most beautiful, soulful eyes he had ever seen.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

A bird's cry overhead snapped them both out of it.

Snow gingerly spun on her heel, conscious of her twisted ankle, and headed into the woods, attempting to hide the blush that had spread over her cheeks and wondering what that had just been. She called over her shoulder, "See you, Prince Charming."

"Not so fast." He followed her. "I can't let you just go off on your own."

She snorted. "Oh, there's no 'letting' here, Charming, I'm my own person and I don't need your help."

"Well, you know that 'honorable' streak that you just mentioned?" he commented lightly, catching up to her. "It also means that I can't just walk off when more of those thugs could still be around."

She scoffed. "I have to get to my friends and with that horse," she nodded to his mount, which he was leading by the reins, "you'll just slow me down."

"You're the one who refused my offer of a ride." He smirked. "If you'd accept then we could certainly get you wherever you need to go faster."

Why was she suddenly beginning to enjoy this banter? "I know these woods better than you; I could just run off and you wouldn't be able to find me."

"I'd find you," he assured her.

She stopped, turned and gave him an "oh really" look, still maintaining her annoyance, though she was definitely feeling some amusement at this point.

He stopped beside her, humor glinting in his eyes. "No matter what you do, I will always find you."

His words, for some reason, warmed her heart, when they should have disturbed or annoyed her. She covered her feelings though and turned to continue walking. "Whatever you say, Charming."

He didn't follow her immediately. "I told you, I have a name."

"Still don't care," called over her shoulder.

He was next to her moments later. "Well, since you've made it clear you don't care what _my_ real name is, there isn't a chance that you would be interested in telling me yours, is there?"

"Not in the least," she assured him.

He chuckled. "So we're going to walk along not calling each other by our names?"

"If that really bothers you, you can always just be on your way." She waved her hand at him in a dismissive gesture.

"As I told you, I can't just leave you out here alone when those men could still come back, and I have a feeling that they're not as– _charming_ –as I am."

Snow rolled her eyes, she really should not be finding this man as endearing as she was beginning to.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James knew he really shouldn't enjoy spending time with this nameless woman as much as he was, but not only was she beautiful, she had a sharp mind, quick wit and a sense of humor to match his. She was also stubborn and determined; he was willing to bet by her slowly increasing limp that part of her leg – most likely her ankle– was causing her significant pain, but she was doing her best not to let it slow her down. He subtly adjusted his stride to match a pace that she could keep up with, but made sure not to let on that he was doing so.

They'd been walking in silence for some time.

"You seem to know your way around these woods quite well," he commented.

"For a woman, you mean?" she said tartly.

"No, not for a 'woman'," he corrected, "for anyone."

She turned unexpectedly toward him and an unguarded look of surprise flashed over her face at the comment, but she quickly hid it, turning to look straight ahead. "My mother died when I was very young; after her death spending time with me in the forest seemed to be one of the only things that comforted my father." She glanced at the treetops. "I learned everything I know from him."

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said quietly.

She shrugged one shoulder. "It was a long time ago." He could still read the sadness that flickered through her eyes. "My father remarried eventually."

"Do you like your stepmother?"

"No."

His eyebrows shot up at the prompt, definite answer.

She glanced at him and smirked at his expression. "It's no secret that neither of us is fond of the other; the only thing we have in common is my father and the fact that we both love him."

"And how does your father feel about that?" he queried.

She shrugged. "She and I hardly speak, so it's really rare that we fight; that generally preserves the peace in our home."

He shook his head. "Sounds like an uncomfortable atmosphere to me."

"Well, what's _your_ family like?" she asked challengingly.

He frowned thoughtfully trying to settle on an answer. "Close," he said at last. "I still have both my parents and they have a good, loving marriage. I have a younger brother; we get along well. Do you have siblings?"

She kept looking forward, but he saw sadness flashing through her eyes. "No. My mother wasn't able to have more children and my stepmother hasn't had any either – though she wants to." He was almost positive he saw the barest look of sympathy in her expression as she said it.

He canted his head at her. "Was it lonely being an only child?"

She took a moment to consider her answer. "Not really, there were a lot of other children in the village; we played together just about every day." She looked at him. "What was it like having a younger sibling?"

James thought for a moment. "He was annoying at times, like most younger siblings from what I've been told, but we got along better as we grew up."

She looked at him considering. "You, know, I can definitely see you as a big brother." He cocked an eyebrow. "You're really bossy and overbearing."

He rolled his eyes skyward.

They turned around a thicket of trees and saw what appeared to be the back of a livery peeking through the foliage.

"There it is," she said, drawing to a stop. She turned to him. "I can go the rest of the way on my own."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why would I go with you this far and not make the whole trip?"

She sighed. "Look, I really don't need the complications my walking into town with a man would bring," she told him flatly.

James took in her tight features, and obvious stress. Finally, he nodded. "All right."

"Good."

"Well, good bye, Misstress…" he trailed off, not sure what to call her, "whatever your name happens to be."

She smirked. "Good bye, Prince Charming," she said back in a faux sweet voice before walking toward the village.

"I keep telling you, I have a name," he called after her.

She turned to look back at him. "And I _still_ don't care." She turned back around and continued on her way.

James watched her disappear around the corner of the building, deciding that no matter how things went at the palace he was going to be making a trip to the village as soon as possible. "I _will_ find you," he murmured to himself.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Oh, the webs Fate weaves… Little does our couple know what is in store for them…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Since they haven't said what the Queen's name was in Fairy Tale Land I picked one out for her; if they ever tell us it I may go back and change it along with Red Riding Hood's. I hope that it was ok. Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 2: Thread by Thread

Thank you for all of the reviews, faves and alerts! Thank you to **Happy Endings for All** for beta-ing this chapter! I'm glad people are enjoying this story.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 2: Thread by Thread**

By the time James rode through the gates of Everland Palace his parents had already disembarked from their carriage and were greeting Everland's king and queen.

"Sorry I'm late," he called as he swung down from his mount.

"James, dear," his mother gasped, "you look a fright! What happened to your chin?" She reached out to touch the cut he had received from the young woman.

He jerked his head away from his mother's reaching hand before she could touch him. "Just a run-in with some thugs on the road. I'm fine, Mother."

"Thugs?" Everland's king, Leopold, inquired, concern furrowing his brow.

James nodded. "A few miles up the southern road. They were attacking a young woman."

The monarch looked alarmed. "Is she all right?"

"Yes," the prince assured him, "a few bumps and bruises perhaps, but I saw her safe back to town."

"Who was it?" the king asked.

James shook his head. "She didn't give her name; I think she didn't want word getting out that it was she who was attacked."

"Hmm," Leopold pressed his lips together, "yes, she probably didn't want her family to worry over her. Or possibly forbid her from going out and about." He glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eyes while one corner of his lips twitched the barest amount. "Most women in this kingdom are quite independent and stubborn." The queen gave her husband a look; he cleared his throat and continued, "I'll send some of my guard out to take care of those men."

Queen Regina smiled politely at their guests. "Well, you all must be tired from your journey; we can have you shown to your rooms immediately."

"Thank you," James's mother, Queen Ruth, said graciously. "It would be nice to freshen up."

James glanced around quickly; then spoke up, "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I was wondering where your daughter might be, I thought she would join you in greeting us?" He was fairly successful at hiding his relief at the girl not being there.

Queen Regina's expression darkened, but she pressed her lips together and said nothing.

King Leopold frowned, "I'm not sure where she is. She went off to the village this morning, but she was due back some time ago. She's not one to be tardy." He glanced in the direction of the village. "She must have been held up with something important."

James thought that the Queen might not agree with that assessment judging from her expression.

He was led up to his room where his things had already been placed; a servant – Micah, he said his name was – offered to draw him a bath which James gratefully accepted. He was tired and sore from the long ride and fight from earlier. He undid the clasps on his jacket, draping it over the end of the bed, then he began unbuttoning cuffs of his shirt as he made his way over to the basin of water under the mirror in a corner of the room. He looked up at his reflection as he rolled up his sleeves; he tilted his head to the side and ran a finger gingerly along the cut on his chin. There wasn't too much blood and what there was had dried. He was fairly certain that it would scar; he didn't mind, but his mother certainly would. He found his mouth quirking up at the memory of the woman who had put the mark there. He recalled the scent of cinnamon and chocolate lingering around her, gentle, pleasant…like the smell in his dream weeks ago…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow came through the door to the kitchen in a rush. "Sorry, Hannah!" she called, over the din of all the kitchen workers.

The cook looked up at the princess, surprise coloring her expression. "Where've you been, Mistress?"

Snow was still covering the limp from her ankle as she made her way over to the older woman, snatching a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and avoiding a swat for it. "There was a minor emergency in town that I had to handle before heading home. But everything is fine now." She popped the vegetable into her mouth.

"The queen's in a right mood from you're being late."

The princess rolled her eyes. "Regina's always in a mood." She leaned against the counter.

The older woman gave her a look. "Well, she's a right this time, you were due back hours ago; the guests arrived and could have near on left by now, with how late you are."

Snow gave the woman a look of her own. "Now you're just exaggerating."

"Well I'm not exaggerating in saying that if you don't hurry up, you'll be late for dinner as well." Hannah looked her over from head to toe. "You look a sight, Princess, what happened to you?"

Snow leaned over to give the matronly woman a kiss on the cheek and to steal another cucumber slice before gliding off carelessly. "Nothing you need worry about, Hannah," she sang as she headed out of the kitchen.

She darted through the main spaces quietly, thankfully not running into her stepmother; she burst into her room, surprising her maid.

"Princess," Lucy gaped at the state of Snow. "Oh, you're a mess and we have all but no time to get you cleaned up in!" she young woman fretted, already in the process of divesting her mistress of her cloak and moving onto the rest of her clothing. She stepped away while Snow removed her skirt to check on the water in the bath.

"Water's gone cold, mistress," she warned Snow upon her return. "I'll call up for more hot water."

"No, Lucy," Snow said as she pulled her shift over her head. "That'll take too long and I don't want to embarrass my father further." She moved over to the tub. "A cold bath won't hurt me." She shivered when her toe touched the water but gritted her teeth and got it over with; she dunked herself entirely under quickly.

Lucy had begun helping her wash off all the dirt when she gasped, Snow looked over her shoulder at the younger woman; then followed her gaze to her left hand; she mentally castigated herself for forgetting about it. Several of her knuckles were cut open and bruised quite colorfully from when she threw a few punches earlier.

"Princess, what on earth happened to your hand?"

"It's nothing Lucy, I hurt it while helping out today," she gave her maid a reassuring smile.

The young woman looked at her as if she didn't fully believe what Snow was saying, which she probably didn't, but she didn't argue. Lucy stood and moved off. "I'll go find some ointment and bandages for that, Miss."

Snow let out a half-frustrated half-relieved breath; she looked back down at her hand. She found memories of "Prince Charming" running through her head; she scowled and tried to push him out of her mind. However his eyes lingered and she found herself remembering their incredible shade of blue. The same blue from her dream all those weeks ago…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James stood looking out the glass doors to the gardens, admiring the lovingly tended greenery. He and his parents had joined their hosts in the library to spend some time talking before supper. The illusive princess was still yet to be seen; James had noticed the increasingly worried glances the king was casting out the windows toward the slowly approaching sunset.

Finally the worried father said, "Perhaps I should –"

Just then a voice called out as it entered the room. "Father, Stepmother, forgive me my lateness."

James went stock-still at the extremely familiar, lyrical voice.

"I was held up in town with an emergency," she continued.

He finally turned to see King Leopold now standing and embracing a beautiful young woman with long dark curls that cascaded down her back save for some at the sides which were pulled loosely away from her face. She wore a long white dress, the sleeves were fitted to the elbows from there they had a slit in them and flowed loosely to her knees. She was as clean and fresh as a new day…and a sight better than when he last saw her. A smirk spread over his face.

"What was the emergency?" he asked.

She spun around at the sound of his voice; her eyes went wide when they alighted on him. "You!" she yelped.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

A smile was just barely tugging at the corners of his mouth, but there was a definite glint of amused satisfaction in his eyes. No longer dressed in a leather jacket and riding pants, he looked quite regal in the blue brocade that seemed to make his eyes look even bluer, if that was possible.

"You two know each other?"

Snow's head snapped to her father to see him looking back and forth between her and the other man…the _prince_ she realized. Her eyes flicked to the blue eyed man, to see the slightest lift of an eyebrow, a challenge to her. She gritted her teeth. "We – we saw each other in passing," she managed. Oh, there was a definite hint of a smirk to his expression now and did it _ever_ annoy her. "Along the road," she elaborated, her voice tight.

"Yes," he agreed, stepping forward, "though we didn't get the chance to properly introduce ourselves. I'm Prince James." He bowed his head, extending his hand to her.

She managed a thin smile as she reached out to accept his hand, giving a small curtsy. "Princess Snow White."

The moment his hand touched hers sparks flew causing them both to jerk back. She would have enjoyed the disgruntled look on his face had she not been just as thrown off kilter by the experience. She pressed the hand to her abdomen; he clenched his at his side. Their eyes locked, his searching, hers wary. They looked away before their interaction drew too much attention.

He cleared his throat. "Allow me to introduce my parents." He gestured to them.

Snow managed to arrange her expression into a resemblance of a polite smile.

"My father, King George."

Snow curtsied, murmuring, "Your Majesty."

"My mother, Queen Ruth."

After she had repeated the process, she straightened back up and smiled demurely. "It is lovely to meet you both."

"And you, my dear," the queen said warmly; she turned her attention to her son. "Did you see each other before or after the young woman who was attacked?"

Snow's eyes snapped to the prince, wondering if he would keep her secret. His eyes met hers and held them a moment, a knowing look in them. Dread coiled in her stomach.

The corner of his lips quirked up the slightest amount. "After, mother."

Snow had to keep herself from sucking in a breath, relieved and shocked that he wouldn't tell them.

King Leopold asked his daughter, "Did you hear anything about a woman being attacked by thugs on the road, Snow?"

She turned to him. "No, I hadn't heard anything about an attack, but the thugs were part of the reason I was late." At his inquiring glance she continued, "Word reached the village about them being in the area so parents began to look for their children; the miller's youngest boy was nowhere to be found. His mother was frantic so I helped search for him."

"Was he found?" he asked in concern.

"Yes," Snow assured him, "apparently the smithy's dog had just had puppies and the child was playing with them among the hay bales, out of sight."

Her father nodded in relief. "Good." He became serious, "Would you mind asking around tomorrow to see if you can learn who the girl was who was attacked, and make sure she is all right? The women are more likely to talk to you."

"Of course," Snow managed a near-normal tone. She shot a look at the prince beside her as he gave a cough, oh how she wanted to kick him in the ankle at the moment.

The four monarchs turned back to the conversation they had been previously engaged in.

Snow went over to where a few bottles of wine and other spirits were sitting; poured herself a healthy dose of what she was fairly sure was bourbon. She tossed it back as the source of her distress came to stand beside her.

"So, _Princess Snow White_," he commented sardonically.

She let out a slow breath after swallowing her drink, feeling it burn down her throat, and shot him a scathing look. "And you really _are_ a _Prince_ Charming."

He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms. "I at least _tried_ to properly introduce myself, and as you now know, I have a name."

She narrowed her eyes. "Mm mm," she shook her head negatively, "'Charming' most definitely still suits you," she informed him in a faux saccharine sweet tone.

He smirked back at her, which just had her glaring at him harder.

Then her eyes flicked to his chin and she cocked an eyebrow. "How's the chin feel?" she asked tartly.

His expression never faltered; if anything he smirked wider. "How's the hand?" he countered, his eyes going to her bandaged hand.

She pressed that hand into the folds of her skirt, the ample fabric mostly concealing the white bandages. She gave him a piercing look; then opened her mouth to question him about why he didn't rat her out when dinner was announced.

He straightened up, keeping his eyes on her the whole time, and bowed, gesturing for her to go first. It was all done perfectly with outward seriousness, but she could see the mocking look in his eyes.

Snow gritted her teeth and nodded to him in a convincingly gracious manner before passing him to head for the dining room.

It was decided, she mused to herself, the next few days were going to be hell.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The predawn found James quietly making his way through the halls of the palace trying not to disturb the rest of the household. He was almost always awake at least by sunrise if not earlier; had he been home he would have gone to the kitchen to have a small breakfast before heading out for the day. However this was not his home and he had no right to waltz into the kitchen and just plop down for a snack. As it was he basically killing time until they served breakfast, wandering through the palace, learning his way around, and allowing his mind to wander, but it inevitably was always drawn to the raven haired princess.

She was not, James decided, born to be an actress. Her eyes were so expressive, showing her every emotion and her face betrayed her almost as badly. She was forthright to the point of being nearly brutally honest.

The women of the high court would hate her. She would figure out all of their plots and schemes and drag them into the light of day; she wouldn't play any of their games, instead just stepping right up and getting what she wanted; doing as she wished.

The men would try to eat her up and spit her back out. Try and likely fail for she had wits, courage and a determination that would be more than a match for any of them; she most likely would even have many of them chasing their own tails before a hour was up.

What James would give to see all of that happen. He found himself grinning while he imagined the expressions on their faces at being confronted with her.

She was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the other ladies of court and he found himself increasingly intrigued by her.

Dinner the night before had been very revealing of her family's dynamics. She hadn't been exaggerating when she said that she and her stepmother didn't like each other; they were completely civil to each other with not an ounce of warmth. King Leopold, however, indeed seemed, as Snow White had stated, to be the one thing that they had in common. They both obviously cared for him, though the queen was a bit less demonstrative and more subtle in showing it. The two women tolerated each other; little more. Her father obviously adored her and was quite content to let her have her freedom to do as she pleased, which James could tell she exercised to whatever extent she felt like. The princess and king's exchanged before dinner had also revealed how familiar they were with their people, along with a genuine concern for and interest in them, and an active participation in daily life among the villagers, more so than most royalty.

He entered the foyer, there was little light, casting most of the space in shadows; he was about to cross the area when he heard a rustle of clothing from the stairs and stepped back into the concealment of the shadows to observe who it was. Somehow he wasn't surprised to see a head of long raven curls.

She was dressed in clothing similar to that she had been wearing when they first met, a long dark green cloak draped over one arm and a brown, leather bag in the other. She gracefully and quietly swept down the stairs, not seeing him. She then moved down a small side hall that he had discovered lead to the kitchen. His curiosity got the better of him and he followed her.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Morning, Hannah!" Snow sang out as she entered the kitchen.

There was a muffled returned "Good morning" from the direction of the pantry.

"Good morning, Snow."

She whipped to the side at the soft, genial voice; a smile lit her face. "Henry!" She was at his side in an instant, kissing his cheek affectionately. "I didn't know you had returned home." She knelt down beside the older man, smiling up at him. As little as she cared for her stepmother she was exceedingly fond of the woman's father, a kindly man who adored his daughter and cared for Snow as the grandchild he had not been granted.

He returned the smile warmly. "I arrived a little after our visitors, but was too tired to join you for dinner."

"Of course," Snow said with complete understanding. She shifted to sit next to him at the bench seat for the kitchen table. "How was your trip?"

"Good, thankfully uneventful," he took a sip of his coffee.

Hannah set down Snow's habitual breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, prepared as she liked it, and then turned back to breakfast preparations.

Henry looked at her over his mug. "How are things going with our guests?"

"Fine," Snow said bringing a spoonful to her mouth.

Henry just looked at her.

She tried to ignore his quiet, knowing gaze for a few moments but quickly caved; she needlessly stirred her spoon in her oatmeal. "I'm just not thrilled with why they are here," she finally admitted.

The older man gave her a gentle, understanding smile. "Just because they are here does not mean anything will come of it."

"I know," she said taking a drink of her coffee.

Henry decided to change the subject. "You're going to town?"

"Mm hmm," she confirmed, as she took a bite.

Hannah turned, frowning slightly. "Isn't that a mite bit rude with guests? Shouldn't you maybe invite the prince to see if he wants to look around the village?"

Snow set her mug down a little harder than necessary. "If _His Royal Highness _can't occupy himself that's his own fault," she said testily.

Hannah turned around again, frowning more deeply. "Careful now, dearie. That tone smacks of resentment."

The princess grimaced, looking down; realizing that her tone and words were truly unwarranted for someone she, supposedly, had just met. "I'm sorry," she said contritely. She shoved a hand through her hair. "Chalk it up to the pressures in our meeting."

"It really _is_ your choice, Snow," Henry reminded her quietly. "Your father would not pressure you into anything you didn't want."

She smiled at him with gratitude. "I know." She swallowed the last of her coffee, took one last bite of oatmeal, stood and began to gather her things. "I'm going to head out; I have much to do today." She dropped a kiss on Henry's cheek, danced around the table to do the same to Hannah, then headed to the door. "See you later."

"Don't forget that the local nobles are arriving today, so don't you _dare_ be late for dinner tonight, Snow White!" Hannah called after her.

"I won't be," Snow tossed over her shoulder with a grin.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James watched the princess sashay out the door; he turned and made his way to the next nearest door out of the castle toward the village. Colors had begun to paint the horizon as he made his way toward the town; just ahead he could see the cloaked, though un-hooded, figure of the princess. He sped up his steps to catch up to her.

"Fancy seeing you out here," he commented as he pulled up beside her.

She turned to him, frowning. "What are you doing here?" her tone revealed just how not thrilled she was to see him.

"I'm an early riser," he said genially. "I thought I would head into the village to look around."

She frowned. "I can take care of myself, Charming," she stated flatly.

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say I was here for you, Princess. Though, you probably shouldn't be going off on your own with the thugs around." She clenched her jaw; he smirked. "I doubt that your father would be thrilled to learn that you did so."

She spun to face him and came to a stop; bringing him to a stop with her. "Why didn't you tell them that I was the one who was attacked?" she burst out.

He crossed his arms over his chest looking at her consideringly. "Who said I won't?"

Snow narrowed her eyes at him watchfully. "If you had intended to reveal that, you would have done so at the time."

He leaned in closer to her, invading her space; he saw a flash of momentary panic in her eyes, and by the slightest jerk in her body she wanted to move away, but was forcing herself to stand her ground. "Why don't you just say thank you, and then show me around the village?"

She continued to eye him warily. "Thank you," she finally said, reluctantly.

James nodded his head. "You're welcome. Now," he gestured toward the town, "shall we?"

She frowned, but turned and continued toward their destination.

The walked in silence for several moments.

"So," James began conversationally, looking in her direction, "who's pressuring you into this?"

She turned to him, questioningly.

"Into us getting engaged," he elaborated.

She looked away scowling. "My stepmother. My father doesn't have too many feelings about it one way or the other. He wants me to do what I want." She turned back to him. "You?"

"My father," he looked out ahead of them, "but my mother is going with it as well."

She gave an un-lady-like snort. "Romance really _is_ dead."

He raised his eyebrows at her cynicism.

She noted his look. "I might not get involved with the High Court, but I know how this works," she stated. Snow stopped, prompting him to do the same; they both turned to face each other. "True love?" she began. "It doesn't exist," she continued frankly, shaking her head. "It's all arranged marriages and business transactions." Shaking her head again, she said emphatically, "There's no such thing as love at first sight, _or_ first kiss." There was a fair dose of scorn in her voice as she said all of this.

A part of him was saddened by her tone and cynical outlook. Apparently she wasn't entirely unaffected by the politics of the high court.

He looked at her watchfully. "I'm inclined to agree with you," he admitted reluctantly.

She raised an eyebrow, an amused twist to her lips.

"But not entirely."

She canted her head, raising her eyebrows into an expression of "enlighten me".

"I believe that true love is real, but that it is as rare as a comet. And marrying for love is not a luxury granted to ruling royalty, like you and I," he continued. She looked a little thoughtful, so he continued. "Most of the time, happiness in marriage among our ilk is dependent on the individuals making the best of it and, hopefully, love coming after the fact."

There was a spark of respect in her eyes. "Well, I suppose we can somewhat agree, at least."

They turned and continued toward the village.

"So," he began, "you said your father wants what you want, what will happen if you never find someone you want to marry?"

She looked at him. "Truthfully?" He nodded. She faced back forward, though he still caught the sadness in her eyes. "I've already resigned myself to dying a spinster."

He stopped and turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "What about your kingdom?"

She mirrored him, sighing. "I have a few distant cousins who can take the throne or I could adopt a child to take my place, there are such allowances made in our laws."

There was something so desperately sad to him about the fact that she had given up hope of finding love. He pressed his lips together, looking up for a moment and taking a deep breath before looking back at her. "Sounds lonely."

Snow canted her head to the side quirking an eyebrow, amusement in her eyes. "Not as lonely as an arranged marriage," she teasingly countered.

He rolled his eyes skyward as they turned to continue their journey. "I don't exactly have the same choices as you do."

"You have a younger brother," she pointed out.

James frowned. "I can't do that to him."

"How so?" Snow asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

"He wants to marry for love; I won't deprive him of that chance," he elaborated.

Those words had Snow turning to look at him with surprise.

He noticed her expression. "What?"

"You're willing to sacrifice your own happiness for his?"

"He's my younger brother," he said, as if that explained everything. "I would never seek my own happiness at the cost of his."

He saw a softness enter her eyes and a small smile pull at her lips before she turned to look back forward. "Decent of you, Charming." He knew she was trying to cover up how she really felt by teasing him, but he didn't call her on it.

He shrugged. "I have my moments," he deadpanned back.

This elicited the softest of laughs from her, hardly more than a breath, but that hint was enough to ignite in him the desire, the need, to hear a full laugh from her lips.

"Well, here it is, Everbrook." Her voice brought him out of his contemplation to see that they had indeed arrived at the village where there were the first stirrings of life.

It was tiny and quaint compared to the town around his castle; the roads were dirt rather than cobblestone. The shops were few and roughhewn, it was rustic and comforting in a way.

"So," he said, letting her continue to lead him, "where to first?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow tossed him a look. "It's not that big of a place, you don't need me to show you around." She needed to get rid of him. Fast. What she had learnt of him from their conversation had softened her substantially toward him and she didn't need the complications he could bring to her life.

"Yes," he acknowledged. "However, I'm fairly sure that I will be treated differently if I go with you rather than alone."

She pressed her lips together, not able to really argue that point, because it was entirely true, but the real problem for her was that his being there would make them treat _her_ differently. "Granny's Inn and Pub," she finally said. "But I'm not here to entertain you," she said quickly, "I have things to do to help get the village ready."

"Of course." He was mocking her, but it didn't bother her half as much as it should and that _really_ bothered her.

She led him around the back of the building, entering through the kitchen door; he followed her in and came to stand next to her. "Red!" she called out into the already crowded kitchen. "Red!"

It took a few moments but her friend squeezed between two people and came into view. Red's face creased into a wide smile and she started forward only to jerk to a stop, her smile slipped and her eyes became guarded. She'd noticed Charming. Red clasped her hands behind her back and pasted a pleasant, though distant smile on her face. "Princess. Who is your friend?"

Oh, how Snow hated the formality the villagers adopted in the presence of outsiders. "Red, this is Prince James of Seaborn." The other woman's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Prince James, Redell of Everbrook."

"Your Majesty," Red curtseyed.

Charming bowed his head, "A pleasure, Misstress Redell."

"Would you like a refreshment?" she asked formally.

He smiled, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want you to trouble yourself when you're so busy."

"It's not all that much of a trouble," she said. "We have some coffee ready."

"Well, if you tell me where it is and where to find a mug I can pour myself a cup and you can get back to your work," he returned.

Red opened her mouth to respond.

"Redell!"

All three heads turned at the sound of the voice.

"Redell, where are you, girl?"

"Over here, Granny," Red called over her shoulder.

The old woman hobbled through the crowd over to them. "There you are," she frowned at her granddaughter; then noticed the pair with her. "Princess Snow," she offered her cheek to the princess.

"Granny," Snow greeted in return, kissing the proffered cheek. She adored the old woman who had been grandmother to her all her life. Red's granny was a remarkable woman; she observed formalities, such as referring to Snow as "Princess," in such an offhand way that they lost their formality, making them comfortable. She had treated Snow exactly like Red as the girls had grown up together, giving her a place to belong.

Granny then turned her attention to Charming eyeing him curiously, and unlike Red her demeanor did not change, but that was Granny. "Who's this with you, Princess?"

Snow introduced him. "Prince James, Beatrix of Everbrook, proprietress of this establishment."

He bowed his head respectfully. "An honor, madam."

Granny eyed him closely; then turned to her granddaughter. "Did you offer him something to drink?"

"She was just about to direct me to the coffee and mugs," Charming informed her.

The old woman looked at him narrowly. "A proper hostess would get it for you."

He gave her a half-grin. "But a good guest would see that you're very busy and wouldn't want to bother you when he has two perfectly good hands, capable of getting himself a drink."

The two younger women were looking back and forth between the old woman and prince.

Granny looked at him for several moments in an assessing manner; then she nodded firmly. "Come along, young man. I'll show you where to find the mugs." She turned, heading off, not looking back to see if he was following.

Charming looked at both of the younger women with some amusement and nodded to them. "Ladies." Then he followed Granny into the hub.

The best friends watched him go, Red moving to stand next to Snow.

"And you're complaining about maybe getting engaged to that?" the younger woman asked, looking at her friend with a raised eyebrow.

Snow tossed her a glare as she swatted the younger woman's shoulder.

Inwardly she grumbled about charming princes, and tried to ignore the fact that he was starting to worm his way past the armor she had built up around her heart.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Speaking with "Granny" Beatrix was quite refreshing and enlightening for James.

Refreshing in that "Granny", as she insisted he call her, was like many older people he had spoken to, respectful of his position but not particularly caring for formalities. She was quite the force of nature with strong opinions and wasn't the least bit shy in voicing them. He liked that she didn't sugarcoat things or curb herself as she spoke to him…and that she felt no qualms at putting him to work peeling potatoes while they talked.

Enlightening in that she told him a great deal about the kingdom, village and royal family; along with all that bound them together. She confirmed his suspicions that their attitudes in the village and most of the kingdom were fairly egalitarian among the common folk and that it tended to extend up to the nobility as well. Intermarriage between common born and nobles was not as unusual as in most kingdoms encouraging the attitudes. Also the fact that the population was not half of his kingdom didn't hurt in strengthening those ties and views.

According to Granny, Queen Savannah, Snow's mother, had been a lovely, caring, genteel woman; her daughter was much like her, perhaps a little more headstrong and willful, but still her mother's daughter. King Leopold was a good king who cared for his people and looked to their welfare; Snow would be just as wonderful a queen someday. When he asked about Queen Regina, Granny shrugged stating that she concerned herself little with the people and the people concerned themselves little with her, simple as that.

Snow, meanwhile, had been hurrying around with Redell, Red as she was mostly called apparently, working on different projects and tasks that needed to be completed before the lunch hour when the fair would officially begin. He had noticed the shift in everyone's attitudes when he had shown up; he had felt a little bad about putting Snow in such a position that people she obviously was close to would put her at arm's length. He had immediately attempted to put them more at ease and once Granny had sat him down with the potatoes and a knife it had gone a long way to relax them and soon they had seemingly forgotten he was a foreign royal and were speaking normally amongst themselves, though they still seemed a little reticent to talk with him much.

The clock in the corner chimed, drawing Granny's attention. "Redell, Princess, you'd best start moving those plates out to the tables. It's eleven-thirty."

"Yes, Granny," the two voices chimed from just out of sight.

The old woman wiped her hands off on her apron, turning her sights on the prince. "Well, don't just sit here; you said you had to able hands. Use them." She shooed him toward the platters of food.

He quickly complied, hiding an amused smile at being ordered around by this small woman. "Right away, ma'am."

Snow was picking up a plate when he came over to the counter and tossed him a smirk as she headed to the door. Red raised her eyebrows at him, amusement glinting in her eyes, as she followed her friend out the door.

James had the feeling he was being double-timed, and possibly triple-timed, by some very strong, intelligent women.

As he helped carry out the dishes many of the town's people casted him wary looks and whispered amongst themselves. He didn't know why it bothered him as much as it did, feeling like an outsider, but for some reason he desperately wanted to remedy their leeriness of him.

James watched Snow set down two pies down the table from him. As he was looking at her a bright blue bird alighted on her shoulder; she looked over at it smiling. With her hand she swept some of the crumbs on the table into her palm and offered it to the bird who chirped before pecking them up in the blink of an eye. It seemed to nuzzle her; then took off again. Snow watched the creature go smiling, she then noticed him watching her. She stood frozen for a moment before turning and hurrying back to the Inn.

Once the long table was set with all the food people began to grab plates and get in line. He was moving off to the side, when Granny shoved a plate into his hands.

"You helped, you eat," she basically ordered him.

His eyebrows shot up at her tone. "I only peeled a few potatoes."

"You still helped." Her tone brooked no argument, so he did as he was told and got in line for the food.

People were settling on benches and mismatched chairs around tables, stone walls, barrels, on the ground, on blankets all around, chatting and laughing. Children ran to-and-fro shouting and laughing; only stopping when they're called over to eat by their parents.

As James took his turn going down the food table he noticed a tiny girl hopping up and down trying to reach something, the rolls it appeared, on the table. He lifted one out of the basket and, crouching down to her level, offered it to the child, who had stopped jumping and was staring at him wide-eyed. "Is this what you wanted?"

She had stuck a finger in her mouth and eyed him warily as she nodded.

"Here you go, take it," he held it out to her.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was sitting on the ground next to Red and the dwarfs eating; she watched as Charming offered the smithy's daughter a roll. The little girl haltingly reached out and took it from him. She appeared to say, "Thank you"; then scampered off quickly. Prince Charming watched her go; then stood and finished placing food on his plate. He looked around, seeming to try and find a place to sit; their eyes met and held for several moments. She looked down first, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was beating a little faster than normal. She watched him through the veil of her eyelashes as he moved over to a tree away from most of the people and sat down. Snow bit her lip, thoughtfully; then stood up with her plate, much to the surprise of her companions, and began walking over to where Charming was sitting.

He looked up at her approach, raising his eyebrows in surprise, which increased when she settled down near him.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "You just looked pathetic over here, alone," she told him, hoping that the warmth she felt in her cheeks wasn't visible to him. She lifted her fork and took a bite of her mashed potatoes.

He studied her for a moment longer before turning to his own meal.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

King Rilian's name came from the Chronicles of Narnia; Red Riding Hood's name came from when I was looking for a name that could have "Red" as a nickname and came across "Redell", which according to the site I went to means "council of wolves", which just basically seemed like fate to me. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 3: Spiraling

Ok, after the emotional upheaval of last night's episode, I have a new chapter for you guys! And after everything revealed in _The Shepherd_ I have officially said a complete "bonsai" to cannon; I _am_ going to change names as they are revealed – which I just did in the last chapter for James's mother and father - but for the most part whatever we learn about Fairy Tale Land from here on out don't expect to see much of it in this…

Thank you so much everyone for reviewing, faving and alerting! Many thanks to **Happy Endings for All** for beta-ing!

I hope that you all enjoy my now official AU-post-curse story!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 3: Spiraling**

Oh, how Snow hated these formal dinners with the local nobility. The only thing she hated more than the dinners themselves was the time before and after where she was force to mingle with the nobles. Some of them were all right, but most…ugh. She took a sip of her wine, watching the clock for the earliest possible time she could politely escape.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the more odious single noblemen coming toward her, she pressed her lips into a thin line. Once he was within speaking distance she didn't give him a chance to say anything. "Lord Willoughby," she began in a voice just low enough that only he could hear, "come any closer and you will lose an appendage that, I_ promise_ you, you'll sorely miss." She smiled with faux sweetness at him, while he turned and walked right back in the direction he came. She took another sip of her wine, getting very sick of fending off the would-be suitors.

A soft chuckle from behind her had her turning. Charming was standing just a few feet away, leaning against the wall.

Snow narrowed her eyes at him; he just smirked in return and approached her with his easy stride.

"What," he inquired, "has 'Lord Willoughby' done to deserve such a threat?"

"What_ hasn't_ he done?" she snapped. "The man's a toad."

Charming raised an eyebrow. "Easy, Princess. You know, you're not the only one who's had to fend off interested parties all night."

She looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He gestured discreetly to a few of the women across the room from them, who were eyeing the prince with interest. "Some of your noblewomen have more tentacles than an octopus."

Snow choked on the sip of wine she had just taken. She waved off a few concerned looks that were thrown her direction while Charming handed her a napkin from a nearby table. She glared at him; he continued to smirk at her, his eyes filled with mirth.

Her eyes flicked over to where Regina was glaring at her, and then she looked back at the amused prince. "Are you_ trying_ to get me in more trouble with my stepmother?" She dabbed at her lips and coughed a few more times into the napkin. "I managed to avoid an argument over my being late yesterday; I don't need her getting mad at me for improper behavior among our 'peers'." She took a sip of wine to calm the irritation in her throat. "She has a litany of sins she's just dying for the chance to read to me."

He glanced at the Everland Queen, who had turned her attention back to the group she was speaking with. "My apologies, Princess," he said quietly; surprisingly, his voice was a little more contrite than usual.

Snow raised an eyebrow at him. "Prince Charming apologizing…they must be pulling out their ice skates in Hades," she teased.

He smirked. "I can always take it back."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Indeed, heaven forbid you are ever thought to be_ wrong_ about something!" she was using an overly scandalized voice.

James cocked an eyebrow. "I believe the saying involves a pot and a kettle…"

Snow rolled her eyes, as she sipped her wine.

For an evening that had been going so atrociously, James was now in quite a good mood. The women of this kingdom still managed to annoy him as much as ones from all other kingdoms he had been to. None of them had much to say beyond the same dull topics, and none of them would banter with or tease him. Except Snow. Snow was nothing like any royalty he had ever met, particularly the princesses. Ever since he had been of marriageable age he had women falling over themselves for him, trying to show themselves to be the perfect future queen for him. Not Snow. She rolled her eyes at him, insulted him, teased him, refused to just be a damsel in distress, occasionally swore, hurt her hand fighting bandits, and cut open his chin with a rock. She preferred to spend her time helping with the work in town, trudging around in the woods; she sat more comfortably on the ground among the peasants than she did at a grand table among the royalty. No, she was nothing like any noble-born woman he had ever met, and he liked her all the more for it.

A maid came over with a decanter; she topped off his glass, and then moved over to Snow. However, rather than doing the same for the princess she leaned over and began whispering in her ear. Snow bent her head closer; her brow slowly furrowed as worry slid into her eyes. Once the maid had moved back she quietly thanked the girl who hurried off again.

James was about to ask what that was about when Snow, set down her glass and said a distracted, "Excuse me." He watched through narrowed eyes as she went over to her father and spoke to him quietly. King Leopold looked at her questioningly; she gave him a pleading look and James saw her lips move saying, "Please." The king nodded his agreement to whatever she was asking; she pressed a kiss to his cheek, saying, "Thank you," before hurrying as unobtrusively as possible away.

James waited a few moments, waiting until no one was paying him any particular attention, before setting down his glass as well and following after the princess.

He caught up to her midway to the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing you need worry about, Your Highness." She was more waspish when she was worried he'd noticed.

James gently but firmly grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. "Snow, there's worry written all over your face. Now what is wrong?"

Genuine fear flared in her eyes; not fear of him but of whatever had pulled her away. She swallowed hard. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "All I know is that someone is asking for me. And no one would have come here tonight…unless it was the direst of circumstances."

He pressed his lips together, releasing her arm and following her once more toward the kitchen. The head cook, Hannah if he remembered correctly, looked up upon their entrance. Relief flooded her face at the sight of the princess and surprise flashed into it faster once her eyes fell on him.

Snow walked straight up to her, taking the proffered cloak. "Where?"

"Just by the door," the older woman told her, her eyes kept going to James but she said nothing otherwise.

The princess made her way over to the door to the outside. Sitting on a stool beside it was a dark haired, scruffy looking dwarf who stood at her approach.

"Grumpy, what's wrong?" She spared no time for pleasantries.

"Grumpy's" eyes went to James for a moment, scowling.

Snow, noting his look, cast a glance in James's direction before looking back at the dwarf. "That's Prince James. Now, what's wrong?"

The dwarf didn't seem too happy about the prince's presence but he turned his attention to the princess. "Doc needs ya. The tailor's wife went into labor and it's not goin' well."

"Of course." She gestured toward the door.

Grumpy eyed the prince. "He coming?"

"One," Snow began testily, "we don't have time for this." She went to the door. "Two, you know how these things can be, we may need his help." She yanked the door open. "Three, even if we tell him not to come he'll just follow us." She rolled her eyes, as she swept out the door.

The dwarf cast a glare at the prince, who raised his eyebrows, before they both followed Snow outside.

James caught up to her and leaned over to say quietly, "I wasn't aware you were a midwife."

"I'm not," she said shortly. "What I am is a pair of capable hands, a strong stomach and a level head." She glanced at him for a moment. "Which is what Doc requires."

"And who is 'Doc'?"

"The local physician and all-around genius." She nodded to Grumpy who was a few steps ahead of them. "He's one of Grumpy's brothers."

He frowned curiously. "I was under the impression that dwarves tended to be miners and metal craftsmen."

"He's those too."

James faced forward. "A busy man, then."

He saw her grimace out of the corner of his eye. "Sometimes not quite busy enough," she muttered.

That was a story he was going to have to ask her about when they weren't rushing into a medical emergency.

They had apparently reached the house as Grumpy opened the door to let them in.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

How she managed to carry on a fairly normal conversation with Charming while they were rushing to aid a woman who might be dying Snow had no idea. In a strange way carrying on the conversation had a calming effect on her. Though she wondered how he'd handle things once in the house; he kept his head during the fight, but some men couldn't take the pressures of childbirth and other medical situations.

The very air of the house seemed to reek of fear and panic. The tailor was pacing the room; he looked up, eyes wild, when they entered. Snow took in his state and the three sobbing children in the corner. She took a deep breath and strode in with a confidence that belied her own fears for the woman within.

"Where is she?" she inquired in a gentle but authoritative voice as she swept her cloak off.

"Sh-she," the husband was stammering so badly he could get little out.

Thankfully Red chose that moment to sweep in from the kitchen, lugging a large pot of hot water with her. Relief flooded her face at seeing Snow there. The princess immediately moved over to help her carry the pot into the sick room.

"Momma gonna die?"

Snow's heart dropped like a stone at the soft, quavering voice. She paused and turned to the youngest of the three children, a little girl not three years old. The princess knelt down next to the child and gently brushed a hand through her hair. "Your momma is going to be fine." She smiled warmly at the little girl. The eldest of the trio, a boy of eight, caught her eye; she could easily tell he hadn't been convinced in the slightest, but she gave him as hopeful a smile as she could muster. She then rose and went back to helping Red, feeling her insides twisting at the knowledge that she might have just lied to the children. She lifted her eyes to see Charming standing near the door, an island of calm amid the storm of fear and pain. She met his eyes; he nodded to her encouragingly and she gave him a weak smile before disappearing into the room.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James kept his eyes on Snow until the door shut behind her, and then he turned his attention to the other occupants of the room. Grumpy hadn't come inside, seeming to be uncomfortable; the prince supposed that he was either still outside or had gone home. The tailor had collapsed into a chair, head in his hands, haggard. The children were still huddled in a crying cluster in their corner.

He undid the fastenings holding his formal cloak as he moved to the brother and his two sisters; once he reached their side he swept the velvet, soft fabric around them against the slight chill in the air and for, hopefully, comfort. The prince then crouched down beside them, their eyes watching him warily. "My name is James. What are yours?" he inquired gently.

The eldest looked at him watchfully. "I'm Mikhail. These are my sisters, Marta," he nodded to the middle child who nodded to him solemnly, "and Sophie," the youngest gave a whimper of sorrow.

Marta looked to be about four or five; she was sucking on her thumb staring at him. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth. "You're the prince who ate lunch at the festival with us."

He grinned at her. "Yes, I am." He stayed crouched but began to remove his brocade shirt, revealing the simple white one underneath, hoping the less formal wear would make the children feel more at ease. He then sat down on the floor near them.

The youngest leaned forward, one finger outstretched; she pressed that finger delicately against the cut on his chin. "Owie," she stated.

He gently caught her hand. "Yes, that is an 'owie'," humor colored his voice.

"It hurt?" she asked innocently as she slowly pulled away to sit back against her big brother again.

He shook his head, smiling. "No. It did, but not anymore."

"Momma hurt." She turned fretful eyes toward the door to the room.

"They're trying to fix that." He ran a soothing hand over her soft brown locks.

She looked back at him, eyes so trusting. She rose from her spot at her brother's side and scooted over to James. His breath caught in his chest as she settled into his lap, looking up at him. "Story?"

He swallowed hard, looking up to see the other two giving him equally pleading looks; begging him to take their minds off of the fact that their little world was being tossed asunder. "All right." He wasn't sure he knew any stories suitable to tell children, but for them…he'd try.

He was casting his mind about for something to tell them, when Sophie's tiny fingers reached up and traced the cut on his chin again, and his mind easily settled on one. The way to word it for the children came to him with surprising ease.

"Once upon a time, there was a prince. He was riding along the road in a neighboring kingdom when he heard shouting…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sky was just starting to lighten when Snow finally exited the bedroom.

The husband had been sitting in a chair with his face buried in his hands, at her entrance his head shot up and he looked at her hopefully as he rose to his feet.

Charming had been standing by a window, his forearm braced on the frame, staring out into the slowly approaching morning; he too looked to her.

The children though were fast asleep in their corner. The two elder snuggled under what she recognized at Charming's cloak, while the younger was wrapped securely in his thick outer shirt.

She met the husband's gaze and took a deep breath.

A tremulous smile slowly spread across her face. "She and the baby will be fine."

The tailor let out a strangled cry of joy, impulsively sweeping her into a hug, and then releasing her before she could respond, looking at her grinning. "May I see them?"

"Yes," Snow said, her voice shaking the tiniest bit, but well controlled. "Doc has a few things to discuss with you."

He was practically skipping as he entered the bedroom.

She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, pressing her hands into the small of her back, and let out a weary, emotion laden breath. When she lowered her head again and opened her eyes it was to meet the concerned blue ones of the prince.

She managed a weak smile before looking down and heading for the door. She needed to get out of there; she needed to breathe.

She could hear him following after her, but she was too tired to care one way or the other.

Snow walked through the dew dampened grass to a fenced-in field. Her back to the buildings she gripped the top rail, looking out over the rolling hills, breathing in the cool air and trying to draw in some of the serenity of the early morning for herself.

Charming leaned against the fence next to her; she had been trying very hard to ignore how appealing he looked in just shirtsleeves, pants and boots. He seemed much more relaxed and at ease in this clothing; he had looked entirely comfortable in the rough surroundings of the tailor's small house, and now overlooking these fields he seemed equally at ease. She wasn't oblivious, she could feel something happening between them, but her mind was crying out against it. He wasn't like any of the men she had ever encountered before. He didn't discount her because she was a woman; instead he treated her as an equal. He didn't back down from her sharp tongue and hot temper, but rather met her with his own acute mind and wry humor. In his fighting she had seen not just a pampered prince who had been taught as a mere formality, but a man who had truly seen battle. It unnerved her how quickly she was becoming comfortable with him and a part of her mind screamed for her to run the other direction, but she just couldn't seem to stay away and the fact that he always found her when she tried didn't help matters.

They stood in a comfortable silence for several moments.

"How bad was it really?" he asked quietly.

She let out a shuddering breath and rubbed a hand over her forehead. "I truly thought most of the night that I was going to become a liar to those children." She looked down at her hand as she pulled it away to find it shaking; she clenched it in a fist and pressed it against the rail, taking another deep breath. "Doc had to perform an operation on her…" She stared down at the ground. "The complications…" She swallowed. "She can't have any more children."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow had pulled her hair back hurriedly, curls had, as usual, worked their way loose to hang about her face and neck; James could see her eyes were blinking quickly, trying to hold back tears.

He watched her. "But she and the child will live?"

She nodded, keeping her head down. "Yes."

"Good," he said softly.

"But what will this do to her and her husband?" she asked challengingly, her sadness contorted to worry and pain. "I have seen marriages ripped apart because one or the other couldn't accept such a thing." Her lip trembled. "I've seen lives destroyed over such a case," she finished softly.

Her emotions were raw on her face for him to see; it made him wonder why this hurt her so much.

James straightened, turning to face her properly. "I do not know them well, but I do know that she now has four wonderful children who love her, and that she can raise and love for the rest of her life." Her eyes were locked with his, unable to look away. "And she has a husband," his voice was a little thicker, "who, if he loves her as much as I think he does, will be so happy to know that he will be able to raise their children_ with_ her," there was an ache in his chest, "and not alone, and to know that they will grow old together." Her lips had parted and her breaths were coming a little faster than normal. "That is what all men who love their wives, whom I have known, wish for." His heart was pounding.

There was something there between them, alive and crackling in the air, they could both feel it, but somehow he knew they weren't ready for it. Knowing how she would likely react if she were the one to interrupt the moment he decided to break the atmosphere a little more gently.

"We should get back to the castle," he said quietly, he hoped that his voice didn't sound as husky to her as it did to him, "it's nearly dawn."

She looked down, breaking the connection. "Right."

They headed back to the house to gather their cloaks and his shirt.

When they arrived back at the palace through the kitchen, James was introduced first-hand to Hannah's mothering – smothering Snow later jokingly called it, though there was no bite in her words, only love. She forced them both to sit down at the kitchen table before setting before them each a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of hot chocolate, leaving sugar and common spices for the prince to add to his preference.

She asked after the tailor's wife and babe.

"They'll be all right," Snow quietly told her, blowing on a hot spoonful. "She'll be abed for a while though. There were a lot of complications."

Hannah clucked her tongue. "I'll head out to check on her after breakfast."

Snow cast her a grateful look.

The cook turned back to the stove. "The Queen wasn't pleased that you left so early last night."

"Regina can bite me," the princess informed her, though her words came out more tired than anything.

James looked over at her, taking a drink of his cocoa, smirking at her less than ladylike words.

Snow scrubbed a hand over her face. "This is going to be a long day," she groaned.

He rubbed a hand over his own eyes, trying to clear the encroaching bleariness. "I don't remember all-nighters being this hard a few years ago," he concurred.

Hannah discreetly looked between the pair as she poured them both more hot chocolate. "Rumors have started to fly among the nobles about you two, after you both disappeared around the same time last night."

Snow's spoon fell with a clatter; James choked on the sip he had just taken. They looked at each other, frozen. Somehow he didn't mind for once being romantically linked to a woman, but he knew that Snow wouldn't take it well and he didn't want her reputation damaged.

"You both can most likely not worry too much," she reassured them, handing the prince a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully. "All of the town, palace staff and your father, Princess, know the truth, and the rumors likely won't go too far with our kingdom being so small and closed."

Both royals relaxed substantially.

"Now, you two finish up your food and head upstairs," she told them soothingly.

"Mm hmm," Snow nodded, taking a bite of oatmeal. "I have so much to do to get ready for the day."

"My parents are probably wondering what happened last night," James agreed, setting down the glass.

Hannah pinned them both with a sharp look. "You two think you're staying up after this?" She planted her fists on her hips.

Prince and princess looked up at her, a little cowed.

"You are both going straight up to bed and getting some sleep," she informed them.

They looked at each other, before looking back at Hannah.

"But you just said that rumors are going around about the two of us," Snow pointed out.

"And the two of us remaining in bed so late in the day would likely perpetuate those rumors," James added.

"The rumors will die," she said dismissively. "You two have had a long, hard night and you both need sleep. So no arguments."

"Hannah, the preparations –"

"Will get done just fine without you, Princess."

"My parents –"

"Will be informed of the great service you performed for a family in need last night, Prince." She gave them both a glare before turning back to the stove.

James and Snow looked at each other again, him raising his eyebrows in surprised questioning; she rolling her eyes skyward in response.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was still very early when Snow and Charming made their way up the stairs; only the staff were awake, exceedingly busy with all of the guests in the castle and the ball that was to take place that night.

"I'm sorry about Hannah's pushiness," the princess finally said after they had ascended halfway up the stairs.

He shook his head grinning tiredly. "It's fine; it makes me feel like I never left home in a way. Our steward and housekeeper are much the same." A fond smile spread across his face. "Our cook is actually the more indulgent one."

She gave a soft laugh. "So you're close to your servants as well?"

He nodded. "Not quite as close as you are," there was a slight teasing in his eyes. "But in some ways," his expression became thoughtful, "I'm closer to them than my parents." He looked at her. "I love my parents, but growing up there were some things that I couldn't really talk to them about; I went to Shaw, our steward, or Mariah, our housekeeper."

Snow gave him a sad smile. "I understand." She looked down at her hands. "After my mother's death, there were just things I couldn't talk to Father about; I went to Hannah." She looked up to see him looking straight ahead of them, a troubled look on his face. "What's wrong?"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Now that I'm thinking about it, it really bothers me that a child should feel they can't go to their parent." He glanced at her. "I can understand for you that there are certain things that a daughter can't talk to her father about, but in my situation…" He frowned. "I don't want my children to go to servants rather than me when they need help or have questions."

She bit her lip, wondering how on earth they kept managing to stray into such personal matters, but she foraged ahead anyway. "Then don't let them feel that way," she told him simply, coming to a stop where the hall split and their ways parted; turning to face him.

He mirrored her, giving her a half smile that did strange things to her heart. "I will keep that in mind." He bowed his head to her. "See you later, Princess."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Until later, Prince Charming," she said turning.

"I told you that it's 'James'," he reminded her.

She turned back to him, walking backwards. "Not to me." She turned back around and hurried to her room. She didn't know what had prompted her to say that but she couldn't take it back and the look on his face was certainly worth the possible embarrassment later.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow's words had James stopping dead in his tracks and staring after her. How she kept managing to throw him off kilter he wasn't sure; he shook his head and finally headed toward his room.

He opened the door and walked in; just as he did so he heard his parents' voices from their room moving closer, he quickly moved the rest of the way into his room and quietly shut the door. As his latched he heard their door open; he stood by the door waiting to see what they would do. Their voices came closer…then passed by his door; he let out a relieved breath, not particularly wanting to have the discussion about his whereabouts the night before at that moment.

He tossed his brocade shirt and cloak onto a chair on his way to the bed. The thick curtains had been drawn closed over the windows, for which he was thankful. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, then lay back. The beautiful dark haired princess still lingered in his mind as he fell asleep.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Dark clouds swallowed them. Which way was up? Which way was down? Dread clawed at them as triumphant, evil laughter resounded.

A cinnamon and chocolate flavored kiss was pressed to his unresponsive lips.

She buried her tear streaked face in an evergreen and leather scented shoulder.

The world was dissolving around them.

Hopeless.

Hopeless…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow shot up in bed, searching her room with wide eyes. Fear still had its claws in her but they were withdrawing as she surveyed the safe, familiar surroundings. She sat back against the headboard, her right hand going to her left to… She frowned and looked down at her hands; she spread them out for her inspection. She wore no rings; she never did, so why had she been reaching to fiddle with one?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James sat bold upright in bed, body tense, his hand going for his sword, but then slowly easing away as no threat was revealed; he pulled his hand back from the hilt of his sword. He turned and looked at the other side of the bed, where his hand had automatically gone to check… He frowned. Check on what? He had no wife. No mistress. No lover. So why had he reached as if to check on one?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"I cannot believe you'd be so irresponsible!"

Snow had been listening to similar phrases and had had other sins thrown in her face by her stepmother for the last fifteen minutes. Her father wasn't around, they would never upset him like that, but that also meant that Regina was going to let loose like she rarely did.

"The gossip has been horrible! What were you thinking going off with an unmarried man without a word?" The tall woman was pacing back and forth. "Absolutely selfish! You could have ruined all of your chances!"

Snow had had enough. "What bothers you more, stepmother?" She stood. "The fact that the gossip would ruin my viability for marriage?" She stepped right up to the older woman who had her beat solidly in height, but this did not deter the princess; if anything it made her all the more determined. "Or the fact that he_ didn't_ compromise me?"

The woman's mouth fell open at the princess's gall while the younger woman spun and headed toward the door.

"How dare you turn your back on me, Snow White?"

She said tartly over her shoulder, "Oh, perfectly," she opened the door and turned to find herself face to chest with a man; her eyes followed the brocade fabric up to the piercing eyes of Prince Charming, "…easily," she finished, her voice a bit softer.

The prince's sharp gaze had gone over her head to the Queen, narrowing. He looked back down at the princess, giving her a wry half smile. "I was coming to see if you'd save me from the ladies of court?"

She glanced around. "I don't see them anywhere." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

He gently cupped her elbow, those same sparks danced over her skin but she suppressed the urge to pull away, and he led her out of the room. "Yes well, they seem to find me no matter what." He closed the door behind them.

"I thought that was_ your_ job?" Snow teased.

"No, I said that I would always find_ you_," he corrected, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, for that," she tilted her head back in the direction of the library he had just pulled her out of.

"My pleasure," he nodded. "I take it that your reprieve from your stepmother's wrath ran out?"

She shrugged. "Not the first time and it won't be the last time. Thankfully it happens very rarely."

"So," James began, "are you as excited for this ball as I am?"

Snow made a face, the spring equinox ball was that night; it was the reason that all the nobles had come. "If what you mean by 'excited' is dreading it, then yes,_ very_."

He chuckled. "You seemed so insistent about being involved in the 'preparations' earlier."

"Not for_ this_," she assured him.

He looked at her questioningly. "What then?"

She eyed him consideringly. "I'm not sure you're ready for that, Charming."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had to laugh at her tone, mockingly serious. "'Ready for that'?" he countered.

"Mmmm," she nodded seriously. "It is highly sensitive information."

He bent his head closer to hers in a confiding manner. "Well, seeing as we are both under suspicion of having an affair," she choked on a laugh, "I think I can probably be trusted with such 'sensitive information'."

Snow coughed lightly, looking back up at him, amusement sparking in her eyes. "Ask me later."

"I'll hold you to that," he muttered as they approached the ballroom.

James was grateful that King Leopold had chosen to forgo having a caller so that what attention they attracted at their entrance was not compounded. Those who had noted their presence whispered amongst themselves.

James leaned close to Snow again. "These people really do think I'm much more interesting and daring a person than I am," he muttered.

She raised an inquiring eyebrow at him.

"Having an illicit affair with my host's daughter," he elaborated.

Snow smothered a laugh with her hand; once she had her amusement controlled she cleared her throat. "No, you are_ much_ more boring than that," she agreed with barely contained amusement, "fighting a gang on the way here, helping peel potatoes for a festival, running off in the middle of a party to help a family, letting yourself be cowed by a fierce cook, then saving me from my Wicked Stepmother." She looked up at him, mirth sparkling in her eyes. "Very boring indeed."

James grinned at her description of the events over…had it really only been three days? It had seemed much longer with all that had happened. He had grown so used to her in such a short time; he knew little things about her that, when he thought about it, it was a little disturbing that he knew. He had known last night her sharp tone wasn't really directed at him but a result of stress and distress, anticipating her reaction to the moment between them that morning, and he had instinctively known how to handle both situations. He had always been good at reading people, but her face…it wasn't just an open book, it was like a book he had read a hundred times before and had memorized. It was all very unnerving; his mind refused to inspect it all that closely, as if it knew that he wasn't ready for what he would find if he did.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Snow's voice.

"You know I've never really been involved in any real scandal before," she remarked offhandedly. "I find it actually quite amusing."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Princess Snow, am I to understand that you are_ enjoying_ scandalizing your family's court?"

She smirked. "The old biddies need to be shaken up."

That had him laughing. "Indeed, Princess. Indeed."

She grinned up at him brightly.

They approached the drink table and he requested one for each of them; after they had their drinks he steered them off to the side. He was taking a sip when he looked down the room, over her head.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, stifling a grimace.

"What?" she asked, concerned; looking in the direction that he was, before looking back at him.

"That lady." He nodded to the redhead who was obviously trying to catch his eye.

"Lady Stone?" she inquired with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yes, Lady Stone…" He took a deep breath. "You remember how I likened some of these ladies to octopi?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Well, she's more like a leech," he finished.

In that moment he got his wish from the previous day, to hear a full laugh from her. It was as sweet and lyrical as he had thought it would be and had him smiling in return.

She cast him a smirk. "That is not an incorrect assessment of Lady Stone," she agreed, humor still coloring her tone.

The band struck up a song and Lady Stone began making her way over to them.

He looked down at Snow. "Do _not_ leave me with her," he said, his voice half command, half pleading.

She canted her head to the side in a thoughtful manner, as if considering it. When he tightened his hold on her arm she looked back at him, her eyes danced merrily as she set down her glass. "Do you dance, Your Highness?" she asked teasingly.

He lifted his eyes heavenward part in thanks and part in exasperation; setting down his own drink. "I can be convinced to, Princess." He grasped her gloved hand in his and led her out to the floor to join the other couples.

Dancing with Snow was either the most exquisite pleasure or torture, he wasn't sure which. She fit perfectly in his arms and they moved in absolute synchronization. It felt so right, natural to have her in his arms and when he had to release her to dance with someone else all he wanted to do was pull her back into him again. His intense feelings for her made no sense, but he couldn't get rid of them.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was one of the last few dances of the night; Snow was quite ready for the ball to be over. She was tired of having to keep a smile pasted on her face and holding her tongue so as not to embarrass her father, when all she wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs. When she was with Charming it was better; she was able to really smile while they bantered and picked fun at the other guests, but even with him it was an emotional upheaval. Her heart was pounding whenever they danced and she could hardly breathe, but when they separated to dance with others almost everything in her was crying out to go back to him, and every time another woman danced with him she wanted to claw their eyes out. It was terrifying, but she couldn't stop herself from returning to his arms each time he claimed her for another dance or stood with her on the side talking.

The young Marquis Jerome, whom she was dancing with at the moment, was, thankfully, a childhood friend who was happily engaged to another lady in the court. Dancing with him didn't feel right like it did with Charming, but it was comfortable, easy; without the emotional tumult inherent with the prince. Their conversation was light, pleasant; filled with childhood memories and his own excited talk of his upcoming nuptials. She had seen Regina casting glares in her direction for dancing with a completely unavailable man. Once the song ended the marquis led her over to the side of the dance floor where they both got drinks and stood chatting. Charming approached them; he and Jerome exchanged formal bows, and then they both looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, have you two not been formally introduced?" She looked at Charming, gesturing to her friend, "Prince James, this is Marquis Jerome du Massaude." She looked at Jerome and gestured to the prince, "Marquis Jerome, Prince James of Seaborn."

The two gentlemen exchanged pleasantries, before Jerome's attention was drawn off.

"Excuse me," he requested of the prince and princess, "my fiancée appears to finally be available and I would like to claim her for a dance before she's swept off again."

They both nodded; he bowed and headed off in the direction of his pretty brunette betrothed.

Charming moved to stand beside her, watching Jerome take his fiancée's hand and led her out onto the floor, the widest, brightest smiles imaginable on both of their faces.

"They appear very happy," he commented.

"Mmm…" she agreed, an ache opening in her chest. "We all grew up together in court; I think they both knew who they wanted before we were even old enough to imagine courting, much less marriage."

He nodded. "They're the lucky ones then."

"Yes," she said faintly. "They didn't have to look and they don't have any contentions at home either."

"Truly blessed," he murmured.

They watched the happy couple for several moments longer.

The prince set down his drink and turned to her. "Well, Princess," she turned to him as well, "one last dance before the night is over?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know, us dancing together so many times isn't going to quell any gossip," she remarked, though she was already setting down her own drink.

He grinned at her, mischief glinting in his eyes. "I'm willing to weather it if you are."

Snow smirked, placing her hand in his. "Bring on the storm."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

He couldn't sleep. Even though James knew he'd needed the sleep Hannah had insisted he get that morning and early afternoon, he had not looked forward to this particular consequence of throwing off his sleep cycle. He was heading for the kitchen; normally he wouldn't presume to do so but he needed something to try and help lull him to sleep or he wouldn't be able to function in the morning.

There was a glow coming from under the door once he reached the kitchen; he cautiously pushed it open.

He wasn't surprised to see her inside, not really.

Snow looked up from where she was bent over a pot on the stove. Her eyebrows shot up and she reached down to wrap her dressing robe about her. "Charming!"

"Princess," he returned, letting the door close behind him and walking over toward her, but taking a place on the opposite side of the counter, keeping it as a barrier between them. "Couldn't sleep either?"

She shook her head while belting her robe closed and turning back to the stove. "No; I was making hot chocolate…would you like some?"

"Please," he nodded.

Snow brought down a mug from a cabinet and set it beside a second already sitting on the counter next to the stove. She lifted the pot from the burner, recovering it, and then carefully poured the contents into the two mugs. She sprinkled something from a small bowl into one of the mugs; she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Would you like cinnamon in yours?"

"Cinnamon?"

"Mm hmm, I like mine that way."

He nodded. "I'll try it."

She gave the other mug the same treatment; she spooned up some whipped cream from another bowl into her cup. She glanced questioningly at him; he nodded his agreement so she did the same for his. She finished off by sprinkling a little more cinnamon on top of the whipped cream and adding a cinnamon stick to each. She picked up both mugs, turned and set them down on the counter, sliding his across to him.

James quirked a smile at her as he lifted his mug. "You really like cinnamon in your cocoa."

She leaned on the counter, both hands wrapped around her mug. "It's been my favorite way to have it ever since Sleepy showed me as a little girl."

"'Sleepy'?"

She smiled. "Another of Doc and Grumpy's brothers," she explained.

He cocked an eyebrow. "And I take it his name is just as apropos?"

Her eyes danced merrily. "Quite."

He took a sip of the cinnamon laced drink and found himself pleasantly surprised by the flavor. "Well he certainly is wise in his knowledge of hot chocolate."

She laughed softly, taking a sip of her own drink.

He watched her over the rim of his cup. "So, is now later?"

"Hmm?" she looked at him questioningly.

"You said I should ask you later about the 'sensitive information'."

Understanding came over her face and her lips formed a wordless "Oh."

"Is now later?" he asked again, amusement tingeing his voice.

She set her mug on the counter, turning it slowly in her hands. "What I wanted to help prepare for was the final, large celebration in the village tomorrow night - well, actually," she frowned thoughtfully, "it's tonight, I guess."

"Hmm," he acknowledged, sipping his cocoa. "The equinox was tonight," he remarked, thoughtfully, "why do they hold their main celebration the night after the equinox?"

She gave him a secretive smile, lifting her mug to her lips. "Because_they_ aren't celebrating the spring equinox."

He leaned forward on his elbows, now intrigued. "So what_are_ they celebrating then?"

She grinned at him, drained the last of her cocoa, setting the mug in the sink to soak, and then leaned over the counter so that their faces were only inches apart. They were playing with fire, and they knew it; being so close to one another when neither was properly dressed and they were entirely alone.

"You'll find out tomorrow night," she told him. She moved back again. "It's fairly obvious once the sun sets." She moved around the counter, heading toward the door. "And you'll be there anyway."

He caught her hand, as she passed him; he ignored how the contact made his heart pound. "I will, will I?" he asked challengingly.

She had been momentarily thrown by his touch, but quickly overcame it and gave him a saucy grin. "Yes, you will."

He let her hand slip from his, watching her sashay to the door.

"Good night, Charming," she sang as she exited.

"Good night, Princess," he returned.

He continued to stare at the door long after it had closed behind her.

Whatever this was between them was spiraling very quickly toward going out of control, and while he should stop it immediately, he couldn't honestly find it in him to_want_ to.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Sooooo…how was that?


	5. Chapter 4: For Forever

Finally! I finally finished this! This is hands down the absolute longest single chapter I've EVER written! Thank you everyone who reviewed, faved and alerted this story! You guys help me stay motivated through the sometimes headache worthy writer's blocks and moments of thinking that I can't ever get it finished.

Thank you so much to **Happy Endings for All** for beta-ing this for me and her funny/honest comments.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 4: For Forever**

How he managed to still be up at dawn after the late night, James wasn't sure, but he was. He hoped that Hannah would be in a kindly mood to let him eat breakfast in the kitchen, since he had no desire to wait the still several hours until the rest of the nobles were awake and served breakfast.

When he turned down the hall for the staircase he saw a very familiar form ahead; he quickened his steps.

She heard him and turned around.

"Princess," he greeted as he reached her.

"Charming," she returned.

"James," he corrected.

"_Charming_," she sang back teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at her insistence at calling him that, and didn't bother to try and correct her again. They started down the stairs side-by-side.

"We're quite a pair," she remarked wryly.

He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Up ridiculously late two nights in a row, with a third to come, and up by sunrise anyway."

He chuckled softly. "I suppose all the better for me since I might be able to sleep in the carriage on the way home tomorrow."

She frowned. "I'd forgotten that you were leaving tomorrow."

James smirked. "Worried about missing me, Princess?"

She shot him a half-hearted glare. "Actually, looking forward to my life getting back to normal," she informed him tartly.

This had him grinning and shaking his head.

"What about you, Charming? Looking forward to getting back to your life?" She cut her eyes to him.

He shrugged. "It'll be nice to go home; Thomas promised that by the time I returned he would have a new strategy to beat me at chess."

She canted her head to the side curiously. "You play?"

"Mm hmm," he nodded. "It helps me think sometimes."

"Well, we'll have to play some time," she decreed.

He laughed lightly. "So we will be seeing each other again?"

"Perhaps," she smirked.

He held the door to the kitchen open for her, saying mockingly, "'Perhaps'."

She gave a soft laugh.

Hannah looked up from where she was cutting up some fruit; somehow she didn't look surprised to see the prince in her kitchen with her princess. She set a platter of fruit on the table in front of where they were sitting along with a still steaming loaf of bread, honey and two mugs of coffee.

"Put slices of the Queen's honey crisps in there, Princess," she said, nodding to the platter.

James watched as Snow grimaced.

"Thank you Hannah, but I really don't feel like apples." Nor did she look inclined.

The cook spun back toward her, eyes narrowed. "What's this about? You love apples, especially the Queen's."

Snow shrugged, looking rather uncomfortable as she chose a slice of a pear instead. "I don't know. It started a few weeks ago; I just haven't been able to tolerate the thought of eating an apple."

James raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a rather sudden turnabout."

She wrinkled her nose, looking rather annoyed. "It is." She cleared her expression and looked back at Hannah. "Where's Henry? He's usually here this time of morning."

James had been surprised when he found out how much Snow liked Lord Henry, given how much she detested her stepmother. Once he met the man, though, he had easily understood her affection for him; he was a good, kind soul who loved both his daughter and step-granddaughter.

The cook pursed her lips, busying herself with preparing breakfast. "I believe he's down in the village."

Comprehension dawned on the princess's face; she nodded.

The prince, meanwhile, felt like he was missing something; he turned to Snow to ask, but she was shaking her head and giving him a "not now" look. He kept his mouth shut but returned her look with one of "later, then?" She grimaced but nodded.

"You two off to the village?" Hannah inquired.

"Snow said that we're attending the final celebration for the spring festival tonight," James informed her.

Hannah raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. "Really? Well, you both have fun; it's certainly a night for the young."

James cocked an eyebrow at the princess who just gave him a secretive grin as she took a sip of her coffee.

A blue bird flew in through one of the open windows and landed on the table next to Snow.

"Don't you be letting that creature near my breakfast, Snow White," the cook warned her sternly, shaking a wooden spoon in the direction of the bird.

"Hannah," she said in a pleading tone, "she's been running errands for me."

"It's spring; there are already seeds and nuts fit enough for that thing," she scowled.

"Just a _small_ piece of bread," she wheedled.

The older woman pursed her lips but gave a jerky nod. "Only a _very_ small one."

Snow broke of a tiny piece of bread and fed it to the bright animal; she glanced at the cook who, scowling, nodded in approval before turning to the stove. Once her back was turned the princess broke off a larger piece and placed it in front of the bird, who chirped its thanks, clamped it in her beak and flew off.

Snow looked up to see James smirking at her; she pressed a finger to her lips, begging his silence. He raised an eyebrow challengingly. She narrowed her eyes in return, questioning visible. He smirked, popping a grape into his mouth and holding eye contact with her, deciding to let her stew over what he could possibly want in return for his silence this time.

"So," he began amicably, "you're friends with birds?"

Hannah scoffed, not turning from her work at the stove and saying nothing further.

The princess rolled her eyes at the older woman. "Certain blue birds, yes." She took a bite of a honey glazed slice of bread. "They're very loyal, intelligent creatures," she informed him.

He gave her a half smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

They bid Hannah good bye as they headed out the door. Once they had gotten a respectable distance from the kitchen Charming turned to her and asked the question she knew was coming.

"What was that about Lord Henry?"

She took a deep breath. "It was about the fact that he was in the village…_all night_," she looked at him meaningfully.

His eyebrows shot up. "I take it he wasn't alone."

Snow shook her head. It was a matter that was kept fairly quiet; the number of people who actually knew was surprisingly few.

Charming looked out ahead of them thoughtfully. "Does your stepmother know?"

"No," she stated firmly; her tone clearly communicating that the woman was to never _be_ made aware of it either. "Myself, Hannah and two, maybe three others know."

"The Queen wouldn't take it well?"

Snow snorted. "Regina never takes _anything_ well."

He cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing to her tone. "I take it from her reaction that Hannah doesn't approve?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hannah thinks it's scandalous. Of course, Hannah thinks a great many things are scandalous." She looked at him drolly. "She's actually quite easily scandalized."

He watched her closely. "You aren't though."

She shook her head, looking down at her hands. "He and the woman have both been widowed for a long time and they are both very discreet. Somehow, years ago, just after I found out, I got up the nerve and actually asked him about it." She still couldn't believe her own gall years later. "He told me that it was a…" she thought for a moment remembering his words, "'habit' that sat well with them both."

He raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like love to me."

"It's not," she confirmed. "They have…affection for each other; are fond of each other. But as he explained love isn't what they are really seeking in their situation. What they want is friendship and companionship; someone when, as he put it, the nights get too long." She gave him a small smile. "He explained it to me that they already had their true loves and nothing will ever take that place, all they seek is someone to occasionally ease the loneliness and who understands how they feel." She maneuvered herself in front of him and turned to face him, coming to a stop and prompting him to do the same. "They are both good people, late in their years; the situation makes them both happy."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James was intrigued by the stubborn set of her jaw and defense of the couple, both of whom obviously mattered a great deal to her. He had no intention of asking who the woman was in the situation, but it was highly likely he could figure it out with little trouble. It was none of his business and he would never divulge any of this, it would damage the reputations of both people, as both he and Snow were aware and she was tacitly begging him not to do either such harm. He looked her in the eye. "I will say nothing to anyone of this."

She let out a breath. "Thank you." She turned back around and they continued on their way.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ruth stood at the window, watching her son and the princess walking side-by-side toward the village.

George had been grumbling how this trip had been a waste; James hadn't said one word about possibly courting Princess Snow White, who showed absolutely no inclination toward marriage at all. There had been the rumor about the pair that had briefly circulated but it was quickly squashed when the truth was revealed. He complained that James didn't seem to be showing any interest in the princess in the direction of marriage. Ruth remained silent but thoroughly disagreed. With a mother's practiced eye she had been observing her son over the last few days with Snow White. What many had missed was the way that when one smiled, the other immediately followed. James, who most of the time avoided the women of court, sought the princess out and actively engaged her in conversation. Snow White, who had discreetly rejected the company of most courtiers, lit up when the prince approached her. When they spoke they kept a respectable distance, but there was an intimacy between them even in a crowded room.

Ruth watched as James reached out to give Snow White a hand over a low stone wall; the princess hesitated but took it, neither immediately released the contact.

The corners of the queen's lips curled up as another image imposed itself over the pair. A little dark-haired girl in britches skipping along beside a taller boy with wheat colored hair through a field, each bearing a wooden sword, laughing and occasionally turning to mock fight each other.

Ruth smiled a knowing, half smile.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So don't your father and stepmother expect you to bid the departing nobility good bye?" Charming inquired.

Snow shrugged. "My father doesn't mind much one way or the other. As far as Regina goes," she pursed her lips, "I have a rather strong desire to annoy her today."

The prince found himself laughing, "I thought you didn't want to push your stepmother too far because she'd tear into you again?"

The princess rolled her eyes. "If she does I'll deal with it. It's really little more than an annoyance." She turned her head to look at him. "What about _your_ parents? Don't you worry about what they'll think of you constantly heading off to parts unknown with me?"

He rolled his eyes. "That's actually fairly normal for me back home," he said drolly. "Heading off with little word to them about my plans for the day," he elaborated.

She canted her head to the side. "Doesn't that bother them?"

He ran his thumb over the pommel of his sword. "My mother, no. My father…more than it used to."

Snow frowned slightly and opened her mouth to question him about his answer.

"Prince James! Princess Snow White!"

They both turned at the tiny voice that cried out excitedly.

Marta was running toward them; she latched onto the prince's hand once she reached him. The child was grinning so widely at both of them that it looked like her face would split from it. "I've got a new baby brother!" she told them joyously. "And Momma's ok!" she added with just as much happiness. Her adoring eyes turned solely to Snow, "Just like you promised!"

Snow crouched down, brushing a gentle hand through the girl's tousled curls. "I'm glad that she's doing well. Are you and your brother and sister helping out at home?"

"Uh huh!" she nodded her head vigorously. "Doc said Momma's gonna need our help for a while so we're doing all the chores we can!"

The princess smiled at the child warmly. "I know that you are all a great help to her."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James watched Marta draw herself up proudly at the praise.

The little girl looked between the two royals. "Are you both coming to the party?"

"That's the plan," he assured the child, who began hopping up and down in place, still clinging to his hand.

"Will you play with us, Prince James?" she looked up at him pleadingly.

Snow had stood up and was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, Charming?" she teasingly challenged him.

He managed to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and smirk; instead he turned and gave the child a warm smile. "I would be most happy to play with you, Marta."

"Yay!" the little girl jumped up and down and began to pull at his hand to drag him off.

"Until later, Charming," Snow called tauntingly.

He looked at her over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow; she smirked back before heading toward Granny's.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You brought him with you?"

Snow was helping put together flower garlands; most of the preparation for the festivities that night was complete, except for the flowers and other additional decorations. "He was curious about why the village held its final night of the spring festival the night after the equinox so I thought he would like to see it, especially since he's leaving tomorrow."

Red raised her eyebrow at her friend. "If this was simply because he was curious you could have just told him."

"Well, he may never return to our kingdom and this might be his only chance, so why not make it memorable?" she commented lightly, ignoring what her friend was clearly hinting at.

"'_Memorable',_ huh?" Red commented slyly.

Snow squeezed her eyes shut, mentally castigating herself for not choosing her words more carefully with Red, since the younger woman just _loved_ twisting things around any chance she got. She grabbed a handful of flowers and tossed them at the other woman who just laughed, swatting the blossoms away.

"That's not what those are for you know," Red told her in a mock chiding voice.

Snow just picked up another handful and tossed it at her again.

Things just degenerated from there into an all-out flower-throwing-fight, which ended after a few moments when Granny came hobbling up to them scolding them for acting like little children, rather than the women they were, and ruining a large number of the flowers. They were then sent off, like scolded little girls, to pick more flowers.

"It's all your fault," Red teasingly hissed at the princess.

"You know, even though you're taller than me I can still dump you in the river," the princess muttered back, her eyes shining with humor.

"Not without me pulling you in after me!" the younger woman countered.

"We both know I'm faster and more agile than you," Snow returned.

As they headed toward one of the flower-strewn fields still bantering back and forth good naturedly, Snow watched the final preparations going on around the village. One form in particular caught her eye. He'd removed his leather jacket and scabbard, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and was helping the men move around benches and tables, apparently taking a break from playing with the children.

Her heart tripped in her chest at the sight of him so relaxed and laughing with some of the other men, who apparently were quickly coming to accept him.

He looked up, seeming to sense her gaze; his eyes locked with hers and the breath was stolen from her lungs at his intent look.

"Oh, yes, definitely only interested in making sure his stay here is 'memorable'."

Snow hit her friend with the basket she was carrying, glaring at the younger woman who was nearly bent over double laughing.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James was having a hard time tearing his eyes from Snow's retreating form.

"I'm told I still give my Michelle that look."

The prince turned his head to look at Daniel, the tailor, who was observing him with a wry smile. Most of the villagers were a great deal more comfortable with him today, Daniel and his family the most of all. The tailor had thanked him over and over for helping with his children, the poor man still felt guilty about falling apart so badly. James reassured him that he'd been happy to help and there was no thanks needed. The prince was pretty sure that it was Daniel and his family's acceptance, along with Snow's, Granny's and Red's that had broken the ice with the rest of the villagers. It wasn't quite like being with his brother, men and friends back home but the men of the village were quickly learning he was like their princess in his attitudes and allowances of informalities.

James gave a short laugh as he sat astride a bench. "I don't know that the princess would appreciate the comparison," he commented wryly.

Daniel sat down on the bench with his back to the table; he took a swig from the skin of water he was holding before offering it to the prince who accepted. "The princess comes to things in her own time," the man stated.

The prince was ever amazed with how familiar these people were with their princess. He'd heard several stories over the afternoon about young Snow growing up, running around with Red, the pair causing trouble everywhere they went, and putting smiles on the faces of everyone as they did so.

James placed the stopper back on the skin before handing it back to the tailor. "She has her dreams and plans, who am I to disrupt them?"

Daniel gave him a quietly knowing smile. "I've heard Granny say, 'The heart has reasons of which reason knows not…'"

The prince gave him a wry smile. "Never was a greater truth spoken."

"Give it time, your majesty," the other man advised. "Just give it time."

James looked in the direction that the princess had gone; regretfully thinking that time wasn't really a luxury that he had.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow and Red stopped on their way back at the tailor's house to check on Michelle and the baby.

The room was decorated with flower garlands, and all over the room jars, vases, cups and probably every vessel in the house was filled with bouquets of flowers.

The still tired woman smiled at the flora. "Daniel and the children were pretty insistent on bringing the festival to me since I cannot attend." She turned to them. "I told them that they could go but they said they just want to help out and then spend the evening with me and the baby."

"They love you," Snow stated simply from her position in a chair next to the bed. Red was pouring each of them a cup of tea.

Michelle accepted the cup handed to her. She was blinking rapidly. "I just…"

The two younger women glanced at each other in worry.

"Just what?" Snow prompted gently.

The mother looked up at the pair. "I can't have more children. What if Daniel is so disappointed…" she trailed off as a tear slipped down her cheek.

Red leaned over, covering one of the woman's hands. "Not going to happen," she stated with absolute assuredness. "Daniel loves you so much; always has."

"Michelle," Snow began gently, "when I told him that you and the baby were going to be all right, I have never seen a man so overjoyed and relieved. And even after Doc told him about you not being able to bear children again he didn't care." She swallowed, feeling a longing ache in her chest at what she was about to say, "The way he looks at you…" she shook her head. "If a man ever looked at me like that…"

Red had ducked her head, hiding the sly smile on her face, remembering quite vividly looks a certain prince had been casting the princess's way.

Tears were streaming down Michelle's cheeks as she smiled gratefully at Snow's words. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I speak only the truth," the princess assured her.

Before any of them could say more they heard the door to the house open.

"Michelle!" Daniel's voice carried into the room and grew louder with his approach. "The children made you a gift –" He entered the room and drew up short upon seeing his wife's face; the wide smile immediately converted to intense worry. "Love, what's wrong?" He rushed to her side. "Are you all right? Is it the baby? Should I call Doc?" He fired off the question so quickly that no one could get a word in and was already rising to head out the door, but his wife caught his sleeve.

"I'm fine, love," she assured him as he turned back to her.

He looked at her dubiously; he reached up to her face, gently wiping away the dampness. "You're crying, Michelle."

She brought her hand up to grip his, smiling at him, eyes shining. "I'm just being emotional, beloved. It happens for women, especially so soon after birthing. Remember?" there was a hint of teasing in the last word.

Daniel's lips quirked upward. "I remember," he assured her.

Snow and Red had discreetly risen and begun to clean up the tea.

"What did the children make?" Michelle inquired looking down at his hands.

"Oh!" he looked at the object in one of his hands and held it up for her. "They made you a flower crown," he was grinning brightly again.

Michelle laughed, gently running a finger over the childishly made object, looking at it as if it was a priceless work of art. "How sweet of them."

Her husband lifted it and placed it atop her long brown waves. "Beautiful."

Michelle squeezed his hand. "Thank you." She looked over his shoulder searchingly. "Where are they?"

Humor lit Daniel's expression. "They had to go off to slay a dragon."

"A dragon?" his wife laughingly inquired.

"Yes." His eyes cut to the princess who was at the moment bending over to pick up her basket. "I believe it is known as Prince James."

Snow let out a choked sound and Red's jaw dropped as they both turned to the couple before looking back at each other. They bid a hasty farewell to Daniel and "Feel better soon"s to Michelle before they hurried out of the house.

The two friends made their way quickly through the roads to the central part of town, and there on the green a large group of small children was "battling" Prince Charming, pretending to be a dragon.

Charming was "roar"ing and pretending to swoop over the children who squealed with laughter. Adults watching from the sides were laughing and cheering on the children.

Snow's heart skipped a beat as he "swooped" down and scooped up little Sophie, who shrieked with laughter, clinging to his neck. He declared that he was going to carry her off to "hide her in a cave forever and ever!" To which the little girl cried "No, no, no!" in between laughing and calling to the other children for help. The group decided to all rush him at once, some going for his legs while others pulled at his waist and arm. Charming gave faux cries of dismay as he slowly allowed himself to be pulled to a lagging stop, then to the ground, carefully turning his body so that he landed on his back with Sophie safely sitting on his chest once he was lying down amid the cheering children and applauding adults.

The children were begging for him to play again as he was sitting up; Sophie slid to his lap and sat there grinning up at him sweetly.

"I think your parents are waiting for you all," he nodded to where several of the adults were calling for their children to come home to get ready for the celebration. The children groaned but thanked the prince before running to their respective parents, leaving the three tailor's children, who were sitting around Charming; Mikhail started asking questions about knights, dragons, battles, training and other things; he and his sisters listening avidly to the prince's answers.

Snow watched the scene, her heart racing. He was amazing with children; completely at ease. The man who had fought so skillfully and efficiently against the men on the road, held a child with such care and gentleness. He looked on them with warmth and tenderness, answering their question with patience. She could so easily see him with his own children. A vision flashed for a moment into her mind; a little girl with long blond curls sat on his lap, she had his smile…and Snow's eyes.

Daniel called his children from a couple of yards behind Snow and Red; the little group looked up. Charming immediately noticed the two women; his eyes locked on the princess, going wide with surprise. He hadn't expected to see her right then which in her mind was fair because she hadn't expected to be caught watching him, particularly with the expression that had to be on her face.

His attention was drawn away as the children bid him good bye; Sophie leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek which seemed to surprise him momentarily but he quickly was smiling at the child as she thanked him and scampered off after her sister and brother to their father.

Snow was staring down at her feet, slightly embarrassed that he had seen her watching him; she lifted her eyes a little to see him staring at her intently.

"Hmm…" a voice muttered next to her. "He loves and is good – no wait, make that _great_ – with children, and _they_ are drawn to him…now who does that remind me of?"

Snow rolled her eyes and began pushing her best friend in the direction of Granny's. "You read _way_ too many of those romantic novels from Gaspard's library."

The younger woman snickered. "Just keep telling yourself that, Snow."

Snow tried to ignore not only her friend's prodding but a sly little voice in her head that was agreeing with Red. Snow _did_ love children; dreamed of having several of her own, and something she found especially attractive in a man was if he felt the same way about children and was good with them. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Charming had stood and was moving to help with the last of the preparations, but had turned to look at her as well. Her heart tripped in her chest at the look in his eyes.

_Oh, boy_.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The party was finally getting started as the sun was sinking behind the mountains. Laughter and conversation were flowing freely, along with the food and alcohol. The people with instruments were tuning up and a space had been left open for the dancing that was to soon start.

All day James had been inquiring about the purpose of the party being that night, but all he had been met with were mysterious smiles and taunts of, "You'll see." Even the children had clammed up quick as you please when he asked and just grinned at him broadly.

The smithy handed him a pint, clinking their glasses together in a "cheers". Some of the other men teased him about being "slayed" earlier, which he laughed off. His mind inevitably went to the look he had seen on Snow's face, so unguarded, longing. He thought back to the same longing that had been in her expression as she mentioned dying a spinster and possibly adopting a child. James had seen the way children flocked to Snow; looking up at her with trusting eyes and adoring expressions. He'd seen how she spoke softly to them, her innate goodness and gentleness shining through; they trusted that in her, were drawn to it. She wasn't born to be a spinster, she was a natural mother.

He pushed those thoughts away; it was a dangerous path to tread.

The mish-mash band began playing; he watched as people flooded the dancing area starting right into what he recognized as a common folk dance, laughter frequently rang out over the notes, emphasizing the joyous atmosphere.

The prince sat down astride one of the benches at a table, setting his drink on the surface, watching the dancers whirling around. A small object on the table caught his eye, drawing his attention. A vase of flowers, one of many on the tables, in it was a bouquet of the most common flower decorating the celebration. A tiny flower that was white, save for the very center which was a blood red. He reached out to remove a sprig of the flowers from the vase and confirmed what he had thought he was seeing. The flowers were glowing. They were emitting the smallest amount of light. He glanced around the area to see the same flowers in all the decorations doing the same and the soft glow that was now starting to highlight the surrounding greenery and fields.

"I see you've finally discovered the secret of Lacrimae Lunaris."

He turned at the familiar voice; his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight before him. Snow was still in the same flowing white dress she had been wearing all day, but she had shed her cape and some of the white flowers had been woven into her dark hair. She looked like an angel or a fairy, absolutely breathtaking.

He swallowed thickly, trying to master his reaction to her, and looked down at the flowers in his hand, focusing on them. "My Latin is rusty at best, and more likely closer to abysmal. But if I had to try my hand at a translation I'd say…'tears of the moon'?" He finally looked up, no the effect hadn't been lessened in the slightest, as heat continued to pool in his gut, but at least he felt he could speak to her without making a complete idiot of himself.

She grinned at him sitting down on the bench beside him. "Your Latin is a bit better than you think, Charming. You're entirely right." She nodded to the flowers he was holding. "Those are 'Tears of the Moon'."

He held up the sprig. "I take it these are reason for the celebration being tonight?"

She nodded. "Indeed they are; this is the first day and night that they are in bloom and what most people here consider the true start of the growing season."

He looked at the flora contemplatively. "I don't think I'd call them 'Tears of the Moon'."

"Ah!" she said, holding up a finger. "That's only because you don't know the story behind them," humor threaded her voice.

He canted his head to the side, eyebrows raised. "Well, please, Princess, enlighten me."

She held her head high. "It is the legend of how my kingdom came to exist."

"Really?"

"Mm hmm," she nodded. "A story told to every child here from birth." She drew one leg up under her, shifting so that she was facing him and resettled herself.

James brought his foot from the outside of the bench on top of it, his knee raised. He rested his arm on it and nodded for Snow to continue, indicating that he was listening.

She clasped her hands loosely in her lap. "It is said that the moon goddess had a lover."

"Why is it always gods and goddesses?" he teasingly interrupted.

"Because it just is," she informed him primly. "Now hush."

He grinned at her, nodding.

"He was another god; it is not known which he was but it is said that they were truly and deeply in love." Her eyes cut to his with a warning look; he snapped his mouth audibly shut, his eyes dancing with mirth at being caught before he could make a comment. He enjoyed the hint of amusement that lurked in her eyes. "For reasons not known, a mischievous being – he's usually told to be a spirit, imp or other god – decided to play with the couple's affections. He placed a spell on the god and fooled him into sleeping with another woman. The Moon, not knowing of the spell, was heartbroken upon catching her beloved with the woman; in revenge she slept with a mortal man. Her lover was furious and his ire was increased when she realized she was pregnant."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Her eyes went to him again, waiting for a comment, but instead saw him watching her with a curious look on his face that she couldn't quite read; he nodded for her to continue. "It is said that the wrath of her lover was great and cost many mortal lives. The Moon's own pain made her lash out at him further. The other gods and goddesses were so disturbed by the whole situation that they forced the pair to separate, never to be together again.

"When the time came for the Moon to give birth, she had to come to our world, for her child would be mortal, like the father. She was struggling through the birth under a tree in the forest of an uninhabited land when a gypsy couple came across her. The couple did not know she was a goddess just thought that she was a poor, young woman in need and came to her aid, helping her deliver her baby into the world; a little girl that she named Ever." Snow watched comprehension lighting in his eyes.

"Over the days that it took for the Moon to recover, she got to know the couple who had been so kind to her. They were later in their years but not old enough yet to be grandparents; they had never been able to have children of their own. The Moon knew she could not bring her child with her and that she wouldn't be able to raise the girl, so she begged the couple to take her and raise her as their own. They dearly wanted children but they could see that the young woman they were helping loved her child deeply and they kept refusing, trying to convince her to keep her baby and that they could help her if she needed. Finally the day before the Moon would be able to return to her position they finally accepted guardianship of Ever, promising to love and care for her as their own.

"The next day, with her strength fully restored the Moon revealed herself to them, much to their shock. She then granted them rule over the land they were in, creating for them a kingdom of great beauty and wealth, found in its mountains and soil."

Charming was nodding. "Your mining and farming."

She nodded in return. "Indeed."

He held the blossoms up. "And the flowers?"

She tilted her head to the side. "It is said that they are the tears that the moon shed; white in her joy at the birth of her daughter, but red at the center from her heartrending pain of losing both her child and love. They start blooming on the first day that is longer than night and continue all summer; their presence and glow at night are a reminder of the moon's promise to the first king and queen."

They both watched as he twirled the flower's stem between his fingers.

He looked up at her over the tops of the blossoms, a teasing smile pulling at one corner of his lips. "And you tell your children this story?"

Snow rolled her eyes. "An abridged version," she amended.

He chuckled, and stared down at the flowers thoughtfully, a wistfulness touching his eyes.

She canted her head to the side. "What are you thinking about?"

He shrugged. "Just that my brother wouldn't have enjoyed that story very much," he looked up at her, a wry smile on his face. "No epic battles," he elaborated.

She raised and amused eyebrow. "Prince Thomas prefers battle stories?"

He looked down, a distance entering his eyes that had the amusement dimming in hers. "No, Thomas would have probably enjoyed it as well as he does any such story."

She frowned, confused; she was about to inquire further when she realized that he was going to elaborate but was deciding how to. She closed her mouth and waited, not realizing how well and easily she was reading him.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James took a deep breath. "Did you know I had a twin brother?" He looked up at her to see surprise flash across her face; then she frowned thoughtfully, trying to remember.

"I think…I vaguely recall hearing such a thing…" She frowned harder, obviously scowering her memory; suddenly her eyebrows flew up and her eyes snapped to his comprehension dawning in her eyes. "Three years ago. Word came that the heir of Seaborn had been killed, but it wasn't talked about as much because he had a brother who was able to step in as heir and there was no debate over secession."

James looked down; his mother's wracking sobs, his father's grief-lined face and Thomas's bewildered, pain-filled expression flashed before his mind's eye. "His name was David. We were identical twins; he was elder by twenty minutes." She was watching him with compassion. "We were both trained to fight and rule, but David was the hero and the better fighter." He looked down. "He was Father's favorite." He felt no bitterness over any of these facts. Their father loved him in his own way, but David had been the first born, his heir, and James had believed that things were as they should be. He took a deep breath. "It was a small border skirmish, nothing serious. He thought that the man was dead; the fighting was over…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow watched the pain contort his expression; she reached out and gently laid a hand on top of his, ignoring the warmth that rushed up from her fingers; just trying to convey some comfort to him.

He looked down at her grasp, and then reached for her hand with his other one and turned it over in both of his, studying her palm; tracing the lines. "Mother and Father were devastated; the whole kingdom went into mourning for David, their future king and hero."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James focused on her hand, taking in the details of it; it helped dull the pain a bit while talking about his brother and how his life and Thomas's had been turned upside down in the aftermath. "I was declared the new heir to the Seaborn throne." He ran her fingers between his, marveling at their long delicacy. "I was originally to inherit the throne of a small kingdom that had been annexed to our throne several generations ago, but it now goes to Thomas." He took a deep breath. "I think in some ways this has been hardest for him because he wasn't to inherit at all, and he was happy with that actually. He hadn't wanted to be a king; now he's making up for years of lessons that I sat through and I'm working to learn what is needed to take over after our father."

His hands closed over hers convulsively; her other hand came up to cover both of his. He looked up, meeting her eyes, finding understanding, acceptance. He swallowed hard; words that he had never spoken, to _anyone_, were straining to break free; some part of him knowing that he wouldn't judge him. He tangled their hands together, fingers impossibly intertwined, needing a physical reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere. He stared down at their hands. "I was angry with David, still am sometimes," he finally admitted hoarsely. "For dying and leaving our family like that. For forcing Thomas and I into things we didn't want." He gathered his courage a looked up at Snow again. No judgment, no disgust, just resounding understanding and pain.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Anger was something Snow could understand. Especially anger at a lost loved one. She looked away, toward the forest. "When…" she broke off, biting her lip. "My mother wasn't able to have more children after me." She looked down at their hands, her thumb began to trace over a scar on his knuckle, one of many that littered his hands from years of training. "After trying many times they decided to be satisfied with just me." She swallowed. "Then when I was seven she became pregnant again…" She looked up at him, a bittersweet smile twisting her lips; he gazed at her watchfully. She looked back down again. "She carried the baby, but it came early and there were many complications." Her voice cracked on the last word; her throat was working and she was blinking hard.

James untangled one of each of their hands, she immediately was missing the contact, to pass to her his glass; she accepted it wordlessly and took a few swallows before setting it down again.

She tucked a long lock behind her ear. "The baby was stillborn and Doc said that my mother could not have any more children."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James sucked in a breath, seeing strong parallels between that birth and the one they had attended only two nights ago. He remembered the raw pain in Snow's eyes as she had looked at him the next morning, pleading for him to make her believe that it would end all right, because obviously it hadn't for her mother. He caught up her free hand which was picking at the fabric of her dress.

She took a bracing breath before continuing. "My mother was in poor health to begin with after the birth; she just…seemed to give up." She turned her hand in his to trace a scar on the back of his hand from a youthful run-in at the smithy. "My father was shattered. I was angry. I didn't understand why she hadn't fought harder; why Father and I weren't enough. And then I felt guilty for being angry at her." Her brow furrowed slightly in memory. "Then one day a woman – I can't remember who she was but I remember her feeling safe and familiar at least – told me that it was all right to be angry, and that it was part of grieving. We just can't hold onto the anger or it would poison the memory of the loved one." Finally Snow looked up at him. "It took time and others helping me accept that anger I carried before I was able to let it go. I still will feel it on a rare occasion, but for the most part I just miss her and smile at the good memories." The corners of her lips curled up.

He released her hands, pulling away. "It's been three years."

One of her hands managed to tighten around his, keeping him from releasing all contact and drawing his gaze back to her. "It takes as long as it takes, and sometimes you'll feel it more than others. I went years without being angry but then I started becoming an adult and I was angry at her again for not being there to help me; that was almost a _decade_ later."

He took a deep breath, letting one corner of his mouth lift. "A decade is a long time."

She smirked at him. "So I'm human," she softly joked.

_Thank the gods for that_, a small voice whispered in a corner of his mind. He chuckled, looking down at the flower on the table and picking it up in his free hand. He then reached over and tucked it behind her ear. "Hear tell from the children around here, you might well be the Moon Goddess herself," he teased.

And impish grin spread across her face. "Maybe I am. You never know, Charming."

They both were softly laughing; somehow, even when speaking of something so sobering as death, they couldn't seem to stop teasing and joking for too long.

"There you two are!"

They looked up at the boisterous voice that was hurrying toward them. Red eyed them both. "You both look far too serious for being at a party."

"My apologies, Misstress Red. I shall endeavor to be lighthearted and merry," James smirked.

Snow giggled at his teasing of her friend.

The younger woman rolled her eyes at the prince and in that moment he really knew that she had truly accepted him. "Charming…right."

Snow attempted – poorly – to maintain a façade of innocence as James shot her a half-hearted glare.

Red latched on to Snow's hand. "Come on, they're going to be playing the Flacon de Neige."

James raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask what that is?"

"It's a dance we have here in this kingdom," Snow explained, not yet allowing herself to be pulled off. "It's not something generally done outside of Everland."

"It's _really_ complicated," Red stated; she stopped tugging on her friend's arm. "We all learn it from childhood." A smirk creased her face. "It's not quite like any other dance."

Snow tilted her head to the side. "Would you like to try it?"

He turned his glass on the table. "I'm not the best dancer to begin with; I'll probably get in the way."

The princess nodded and finally allowed Red to pull her off in the direction of the dance area.

It only took a few moments into the dance before James's hand was clenched around his pint and he was gritting his teeth hard enough that he was surprised they didn't crack. "Flacon de Neige" was an obscenely complicated, strange mesh of a court dance and a folk dance with strong romantic tones and scandalous enough that he could hardly imagine how it was even danced in public. The prince had a burning desire to punch Snow's partner, though they weren't touching half and much or getting nearly as close as some other couples.

"You should have accepted looking like a fool for one dance and just partnered with her."

James turned at the voice.

Lord Henry was sitting down beside him. The older man nodded at the dancers. "At least then she wouldn't be constantly looking over here at you and you wouldn't be giving poor young Charles a look that could kill."

The prince looked down, embarrassed at being caught in the throes of jealousy that he had no right to feel. "I would have been in the way of the other dancers."

"And she would have laughed and teased you about it, but at least you would be the one out there with her, letting her attempt to give you a crash course in it rather than sitting over here seething," Henry pointed out. He leaned over confidentially. "Green is not a good look for you, Prince James."

James rubbed the back of his neck. "I have no right to feel that."

The old man waved that off. "Women have a way of spinning you around and turning the world on its head. My Jane did just that to me."

He looked at Henry curiously, eager for a distraction from "young Charles" who was dancing far too close to Snow for his taste. "I have never heard anything of your wife."

Henry smiled at him, a misty gleam in his eyes. "Jane was a beautiful woman; turned heads every time she walked into a room. Had a sharp tongue too," he added ruefully, "which she applied liberally as she saw fit. She had little patience for fools." He gave the prince a self-deprecating smile. "I was no looker, even back then, but one thing I never did was back down from her, and I was no fool. When she was in a temper most people gave her wide berth, but I didn't step away; I just weathered the storm and was there still when she was done." A slightly smug smile crossed his face. "She and I were engaged less than three months after we met." He eyes became distant and sad. "The day I lost her…" he shook his head. "My heart was never whole again and I suppose never will be." A smile spread across his face again. "But the time that we had together…I will never trade that ever."

James sat listening to the man speak of his true love thoughtfully. He looked back to the dancers, his eyes immediately pairing with Snow's, who gave him a look that could only be termed as "come hither" as the song ended. His gut clenched. She kept her eyes on him as she headed off to the side.

Henry chuckled softly. "I believe you're being called."

The prince smirked at the older man, tossed back the last of his drink and stood. "Thank you," he told the man sincerely.

The older man just waved him off. "Go. You're both young, but you don't have forever."

James nodded and followed in the direction she had been going. He caught sight of her through the crowd; her eyes danced with laughter telling him to "come find me" as she ducked between people out of sight.

He grinned.

Let the game begin.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow weaved in and out of the other revelers, tables, trees and buildings; dodging the prince. The shot of Happy's homebrew before going out on the dance floor had made her a bit more daring than usual, even for her. But even liquid courage didn't explain her enticing Charming into a covert game of hide-and-go-seek. Her heart was racing as she darted around one of the buildings; she pressed her back against it and looked back around the corner to see if he was following. He was nowhere in sight; relief battled with disappointment. _What on earth was she doing?_ a rational corner of her brain inquired. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was playing with fire; she knew it. But she had always liked playing with fire as a child, and the thrill that she felt at the moment put the one she used to get to shame. Not only was there a heady adrenaline rush, but heat was coursing through her veins. She wanted him to fulfill the promise he made when they first met; she wanted him to find her, even though that would be a very…dangerous thing.

She walked along the building; shaded from the light of the fires, torches and lanterns it was nearly pitch black. She let her hand run along the side of the house so that she would know for sure when she came to the end. Her fingers slipped over the edge of the siding.

She was yanked by her wrist into the alcove of a doorway and pulled against a strong chest. Before she could cry out she was hit by the heady scent of leather, pine and horse that sent her heart pounding.

"I told you I'd find you," he said laughingly into her ear. "You can't hide from me."

Laughter was bubbling out of her as she tried to free herself from his grasp. "Oh, really, Charming?"

He held on to her tighter, chuckling. "Wherever you are, Princess, I will find you."

One of his hands brushed her side and she gave a yelp of laughter; she immediately froze, praying he wouldn't figure out –

He was tickling her sides and she was squirming, pushing at his chest, trying to get away from him; all the while laughing herself breathless.

"Stop!" she cried.

"Oh ho! The princess is ticklish!" he crowed.

She shrieked with laughter, still struggling to get away. "S-stop, _please_!"

"Not happening, Princess." He was laughing nearly as hard as she was.

"James, stop!" she begged.

He immediately froze.

It took her a heartbeat longer to realize just what she had said. She'd used his name. In the four days they'd known each other she'd never directly called him by his given name. She looked up at him. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the moonlight was filtering into the alcove; she could see him gazing intently down at her, and could feel the heat in his stare. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath coming in gasps. His breath fanned over her face. She backed up to the wall; he met her step for step, and once her back was pressed against the surface he moved even closer so that there was hardly any space between them at all.

He bent his head, their lips inches apart, both panting, his hands caressing her waist.

She had never wanted to kiss a man before. Curiosity at the age of thirteen had claimed her first kiss between her and a friend; they had both agreed that they hoped the real thing between them and their significant other wasn't that awkward.

Her hands were gripping his corded shoulders, hazel eyes darting from his blue ones down to his lips. "This is insane," she whispered.

"It is," he huskily agreed, his head still moving closer.

One of her hands slid up to the back of his neck, urging him closer. "It's going way too fast." She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

"Does it matter?" he asked, his lips a hairsbreadth from hers.

She let out a whimper and rose on her toes to close that last bit of space between them.

She had heard people talk about the world being rocked under their feet, but that didn't even cover what she felt at the moment. She had no idea how to describe how she felt; only that she needed him _closer_.

He groaned and soon removed all distance that had remained between them, one hand sliding around to press against the small of her back to keep her that close, not that she had any intention of moving away.

Her right arm wound around his neck, pulling herself closer still.

His tongue ran across her lips and she gasped at the feeling; then it was in her mouth and…she should have found it disgusting but…that was about the farthest thought or feeling from her mind. She began to return the kiss in kind and he moaned. _'I did that!'_ she thought wonderingly.

"Snow!"

Red's distant voice was like being dashed with ice cold water. They broke apart gasping, still clinging to each other; Snow honestly didn't think her legs would hold her up if she tried to walk at the moment.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Snow, where are you?"

James swallowed thickly, slowly and reluctantly releasing her, though that was the absolute _last_ thing he wanted to do. It had not been his intention to go so far, though exactly _what_ he had intended he wasn't sure. She wavered slightly; he gripped her upper arms to keep her steady – or was it to steady himself?

"Snow?" Red called again.

"You'd better go to her." He knew his desire was thick in his voice.

Her eyes were still dilated; he saw her throat work as she swallowed. She nodded, but seemed as reluctant as he to let go.

James gritted his teeth and forced his hands to drop from her arms. "Snow…" he said desperately.

She let her arms haltingly fall from his shoulders. She kept her eyes locked with his, the longing in hers mirroring his. Finally, before she could change her mind, she turned and hurried away, calling out to Red that she was coming.

James leaned back against the wall and slid down it groaning.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Hours later, once the festivities had begun to finally wind down they walked back to the castle. The walk was devoid of their usual banter; charged with the kiss between them earlier.

They stepped through the kitchen door; Snow immediately moved to begin making hot chocolate.

"Would you like some?" she asked, not looking at him.

"Yes," he answered simply. He dropped his jacket onto one of the chairs and moved over to the cabinet where the mugs were and pulled down two. He then went to the ice chest and pulled out the milk and whipped cream, setting them beside the cinnamon and cocoa she had set on the counter.

He moved to the far side of the island, putting the barrier between them. However it only worked physically, his mind wandered quite freely.

He could see them in the kitchens in his castle. Snow was laughing and teasing him as they made hot cocoa late one night, his mother's ring sparkling on her finger. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands atop her swollen stomach. Her own covered his and she grinned up at him, joy and love shining in her eyes.

James blinked the image away. It was a very seductive and dangerous delusion. It was everything he now knew he wanted, and might never have. And that fact ripped his heart from his chest.

Snow came around beside him and set his cocoa down in front of him. He waited until her hand was well clear of the drink before allowing his own to close over it. It was dangerous enough to have her next to him; to touch her would be too much for his self-control.

They drank their hot chocolate in silence for several moments.

She set her mug down, tracing the rim with a fingertip. "Thank you," she said softly.

It was risky but he looked over at her. "For what?"

Her eyes moved up to his. "For caring for my people."

He looked back down, watching her delicate hands fidget with her mug. "I'm honored that they allowed me into their lives."

His eyes glanced toward her to see her staring down at her hands which were turning the mug nervously.

"I – what happened…" Snow stumbled over her words and was steadily turning the mug faster.

James settled his hand over her mug, stopping her movement.

Her head turned to his, meeting his gaze.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he stated evenly. "And neither of us wants only one night."

Snow swallowed; she shook her head slowly. She looked down again, biting her lip. "This is happening so quickly," she whispered.

He wrapped both of his hands around his mug. "Nothing more has to happen."

She turned to him.

He took a deep breath. "We can give it time and," it killed him to say it, "space. See what happens."

A pained look flashed across Snow's face, but she nodded. "That's…probably best," she said faintly. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, but wasn't doing the best job.

She took a sip from her mug and began to turn to move around the island to the sink; he caught her hand. She looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze.

"I'm going to work to win your heart, Snow," he told her, or maybe he was warning her. He saw her suck in a breath. "I want you and I want forever."

Her lips parted; she stared at him with a mystified look. She stepped closer to him and reached up to gently cup his jaw in her hand, her thumb running along the cut she had put there.

James's eyelids slid shut and he couldn't help leaning into the touch, so soothing and reassuring. Her lips pressed softly to his cheek; he slowly opened his eyes again to look at her.

There was a softness in her eyes and she smiled at him. "Good night, James."

A hopeful ache ran through him. He gave her a half-smile. "Good night, Snow."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

King George, Queen Ruth and Prince James were bidding their hosts "good bye" and thanking them for their hospitality.

Unlike the day before when the other nobility had left the princess was present, smiling demurely at the departing monarchs; the very image of the perfect princess.

The prince and princess were each other's last good bye; Ruth watched their interactions discreetly but with great interest.

They kept more than a respectable distance between them, but when she looked at their eyes; her son was gazing at the princess with an intensity that she had never seen in him, one that was matched by that in Snow White's eyes. The looks they shared felt nearly indecent to look upon; the air fraught with tension.

"I suppose this is good bye, Princess," he commented softly.

"Good bye, Prince Charming," Snow White said, her voice threaded with teasing.

James smirked. "I told you, it's James."

The princess looked upward in mock thought. "Nah," she shook her head, looking back at him. "I still like 'Charming' better." She gave a soft laugh.

Ruth's son grinned at her, sharing in what was apparently a private joke between them, and cementing her opinion about the pair.

James took Snow's hand, his eyes always on hers, and kissed the knuckles. "See you, Princess," he said quietly.

"Until then," the young woman returned.

He allowed her hand to fall from his and headed over to the carriage and his parents.

Ruth looked one last time back at the young princess to see her smiling quietly at James, who was watching through the window of the carriage. The mother smiled. Yes, her son was on the road to true love.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, since we still don't know Charming's real name in FTL, for now, I'm going to call him James and his brother is going to be David (it appeals to my twisted sense of humor on many levels to do this.) In the next couple of chapters there will be few direct Snow/Charming interactions, but you will be seeing a lot of familiar faces and I'm going to try my hand at writing a few characters that we know but haven't seen on the show yet. I hope that you all liked it! Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 5: Interweaving Fates

Thank you so much for the faves, alerts and reviews! So this chapter is unbeta-ed and I'm _very_ nervous about it because I'm adding more characters to it that, while familiar, we haven't seen yet in the series… They likely will be little to nothing like they are in the show, once they are brought in. I hope that you still like how I portray them!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 5: Interweaving Fates**

_Fate picked up several other strands and, with deft fingers, began picking them across the loom, adding complications and diversity to the weave._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Snow was standing in the doorway to their balcony staring out at the glittering__night sky. She was still dressed in her lilac colored, strapless ball gown, but she had removed all of her jewelry, save her engagement and __wedding rings__, and taken her hair down from the__ridiculously complicated up-do that her maid had put it in. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and she was smiling__serenely at the__still peace of the darkness. It had been a lovely night, the perfect end of a day that had begun with wonderful news; she hugged herself tighter at that thought. __She had been waiting all day to share this news with her husband, who__should be coming up shortly after checking in with the guard._

_As if her thoughts conjured him, the door to their room opened and__James came in, divesting himself of his outer shirt in the process. He saw her standing at the balcony,__smiling at him__over her shoulder. A grin creased across his own face as he tossed his fine shirt__on a chair and walked over to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist; she settled her arms over his, entwining their fingers._

_He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. __"You look happy, darling," he__murmured._

_Happy was an understatement since she could barely contain her joy at the moment. __"Very."_

"_It's good to see. You__haven't been feeling sick again?" he inquired with concern._

_Snow bit her lip, trying to keep from grinning; she shook her head. __"Not since this morning." She looked down at their hands and began to fiddle with his wedding ring, the sight of it on his hand matching the one on hers eliciting ecstatic joy, love and a__possessiveness__in her at the knowledge that he was_ her_husband; her one true love. They found each other, fought for it and built their__"happy ending"._

"_What, it's not enough for you to play with your own ring; now you have to__fidget with mine?" he teased her._

_She grinned at him, tangling their fingers together. __"I_ did_ put it on your finger," she teased back._

_His arms tightened slightly around her. __"You did." He kissed her temple._

_Her eyes slid shut, blissfully happy._

"_Snow," she heard the change in his tone, the worry that slipped in,__"if you get sick again, I want you to see, Doc."_

_She suppressed a grin. __"I__already did."_

_He released her and turned her to face him. __"You did? When?"_

"_This__morning." She loosely looped her arms around his waist. __"He told my why I've been getting sick."_

_He frowned in concern. __"What's wrong?"_

_She barely restrained the joyous laughter that wanted to bubble up. __"Nothing," she told him simply._

"_Snow…" he said reproachfully._

_She__grinned, pulling her arms from around him; she took his hand and tugged on__it to get him to follow her._

_He gazed at her in confusion, but allowed her to pull him along behind her from their room and down the halls of their castle. __"Snow, where are we going? And why aren't you telling me what's wrong with you?"_

_She gave a giggle. __"I_ told_ you,_ nothing_ is_ wrong_ with me… And you'll see in a moment." She__pulled him into Geppetto's workshop._

"_Snow, what are we doing here?"_

"_You'll see…" she repeated, leading him around the different projects the craftsman was working on to a new one in a back corner. __It was mostly just a pile of pieces of wood that were just starting to take form, not really__recognizable yet._

_James ran his fingers over a carving that the woodworker had begun on one of the pieces. __"Who's this for?"_

_Snow bit her lip. __"Us." His eyes met hers. __"I had it commissioned this morning." She twisted her rings._

_He stepped close to her. __"What is it?"_

_She drew in a deep breath. __"A cradle."_

_He sucked in a breath, with trembling hands he reached for hers. __"Snow…are you…are we…?"_

_She released one of his hands to grasp the other in both of hers and__place it against her stomach, looking down at their hands resting there. __"Baby, this is your papa, who is about to become even_ more_ overprotective of your momma than__-"_

_He swept her up in his arms, spinning them around, laughing like a pair of fools._

"_A baby!"_

_Her heart leapt at the joy__–_

"Snow?"

The princess was rudely dragged out of the memory of her dream by Red snapping her fingers in front of her face and calling her name.

Snow blinked a few time and glanced at her friend. "Sorry. I was drifting."

The other woman looked at her a little strangely. "Yeah, you've been doing that frequently."

Snow looked back down at Dopey's damp shirt she was supposed to be hanging and lifted it to the clothes line, pulling a pin out of the pocket of the apron she wore. She had drafted Red into helping her with some of the dwarfs' chores while they were both still looking around for a maid for them. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

Red cocked an eyebrow. "The prince really leave you with _that_ much to _think_ about?"

Snow rolled at Red's twisting of her words. "Who said anything about Prince Charming?"

The younger woman propped a fist on her hip and gave her a droll look. "Well, it's kinda a safe assumption since this 'drifting' _started_ just after he _left,_" she drawled.

The princess grimaced; she had been hoping that she hadn't been so obvious. "Nothing was said or arranged," she stated; only partially untrue considering their "agreement" in the kitchen wasn't exactly formal.

Red rolled her eyes. "Maybe you _should_ have, because then you might not be lost in thought half the time."

Snow gritted her teeth, deciding it best not to respond. Her mind truthfully had been occupied much over the last few weeks since Charming's departure by visions during the day and dreams at night. All of them involved Charming and her being together. The daydreams were generic enough, but the dreams…those, most of the time, were _far_ more detailed and felt more like memories, like the one she had been lingering on before. It was interesting how her old family friend had been incorporated into the dream; she hadn't seen Geppetto in a year or so, but he had always been wonderful to her. Many of her dreams had such details woven in; others had details that were more…intimate. Snow just barely kept from blushing at the memory of what had happened in the dream shortly after she had revealed to him they were having a baby. She would have never believed that it was possible to feel anything like that but for what she had felt in the kiss she and Charming had shared at the Spring Festival. Mornings when she awoke after dreams like that left her restless, achy and wishing that Charming wasn't a kingdom away.

"We _really_ need to find the dwarfs a maid," Red grumbled, drawing Snow once more from her thoughts.

The princess, managed to pull her thoughts to the here and now. "I know, but there just aren't really any women available at the moment who are willing to take on the job." She gave her friend a level look. "You _know_ that it is a little intimidating a thought, working for _seven_ men, and they are already not known for neatness."

Red continued to grumble under her breath as the pair continued with the laundry. After a few moments she turned to the princess. "You and the king and queen are going to be visiting Riverdon soon, aren't you?"

"Mm hmm," Snow nodded, hanging a pair of Grumpy's trousers. "Once he is ready to step up to the throne, Prince Thomas will become king of it and it will no longer be just an annex of Seaborn, but a kingdom of its own right. Father and Regina want to look into it since it also boarders us."

Red shook out the shirt she was holding. "Maybe you can find someone there," she commented.

"I'll ask around," Snow agreed. "I'm visiting Gaspard tomorrow; I was planning on asking him as well."

Red cocked her head to the side. "Are Aurora and Eric going to be there?"

"Mm hmm," Snow confirmed. "Would you like to come?"

Red bit her lip. "I'll have to ask Granny. It'd be nice to see them again." She hung a pair of socks. "It's been a while since we've all been together."

"Indeed," Snow agreed and then grinned. "Poor Gaspard and Eric, they are just always so outnumbered!"

The other woman snickered. "It's good for them." Her smile became sly. "And I'm sure they'd be interested to hear about your 'Prince Charming'."

The princess leveled a finger at her friend. "Don't you _dare_!"

The younger woman cackled gleefully. "Feeling a little protective of your prince, Princess?" she taunted.

Snow rolled her eyes, hanging a coat. "He isn't _'my'_ anything," she refuted, even though everything in her was agreeing with her friend calling Charming "hers".

"_Of course_ he isn't…" Red snorted.

The princess rolled her eyes, but her lips were tingling with the memory of the kiss they shared, how it had indeed felt very much like he was hers…and she had felt like she was his.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_THUNK_

James reached down for the next arrow, notched it in his bow, drew it back, and released it.

_THUNK_

It hit center. Just like all the others he'd fired off that morning.

He repeated the process.

_THUNK_

"Feeling any less frustrated?"

He turned at the mocking voice. "Phillip," he greeted his friend absently.

"He's been at it for hours," Thomas informed the other prince from his spot against a tree.

The dark haired prince's eyebrows rose and he turned back to James, who was once again firing off another arrow…to hit dead center. "What has you this tense?"

The elder prince didn't respond, just drew another arrow.

"We think it has something to do with the visit with Princess Snow White," Liam, one of James's oldest friends and generals, put in.

The arrow flew wide.

Phillip snorted, smirking. "Looks like _that_ hit the mark."

James really didn't want to get into this with his friends. He went over to where he had left his vest; his valet, Bates, handed him a drying cloth which he accepted with a thank you.

"It really went that badly?" Phillip inquired.

"He won't say," Thomas responded.

"He hasn't said anything about the visit at all, actually," Liam added.

Phillip turned back to the prince in question. "So that means it went that 'badly' or something happened and he's not dealing with it…"

James rolled his eyes. "Don't the three of you have better things to do than discuss my affairs?"

"Oh, so it's an 'affair' is it?" Phillip countered.

James spun on the other man, his eyes flashing angrily at the implication about Snow, but any words died on his lips at the glint at the other prince's eyes, knowing it all too well. He had played right into his friend's hands. He clenched his jaw as Phillip's eyes lit with triumph.

"Something _did_ happen," the dark haired prince crowed.

James handed the towel back to Bates with a "thank you" and gathered his jacket, getting ready to head off. "You all gossip like old women," he informed them shortly.

His brother and two friends followed him.

"Can you blame us for being a little worried, big brother? You haven't been the same since you came back from Everland. You're so preoccupied all of the time," Thomas told him, the slightest hint of worry evident in his voice.

James gave his younger brother a smile over his shoulder. "I just have a lot on my mind, little brother."

"I think the target that you nearly disintegrated illustrates that point fairly well," Liam informed him wryly.

"Did you two come to some kind of understanding?" his brother inquired.

Not any that he could speak to them about. "Princess Snow White and I have no 'understanding'," '_officially_', he added mentally.

"Well, then what has you so in knots over her?" Phillip countered.

James's jaw went tight.

_She held his hand to her abdomen, his heart was racing as she looked down, saying. "Baby," his breath caught at that word, "this is your papa…"_

"Papa."_ He was going to be a father! Joy rushed through his veins._

"…_who is about to become even_ more_ overprotective of your momma than__-"_

_He scooped her up in his arms and spun them both around, laughing joyously. "A baby!" he cried exultant._

_He finally set her down, not releasing her from his arms, and looked at her shining face, which he cupped between his palms. "We're going to be parents."_

_Her smile became impish. "Well, that's generally what happens when you have a baby," she teased him._

_He bent his head and kissed her beloved, impertinent mouth; they were both still smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and lowered his hand to rest over where her womb was, where she carried their child, a being both part him and part her. One of her hands joined his once again over their baby; her other rose to cup his jaw, her thumb feathering over the scar there. His eyes rose to hers, the humor he felt reflected back at him in her hazel orbs. He could have never imagined that day they first met, before or after taking a rock wielded by her to the chin, that they would be here, but somehow he didn't think they could have ended up any other way._

_He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I love you."_

_Her grin widened; she rose on her toes so that their heads were closer. "I love you too, Charming."_

_His head ducked down, closing the small distance, to kiss her once again; her lips were already parted and they immediately deepened the kiss. His hand that had been resting on her stomach wrapped around her waist to pull her form into the protective curve of his. Her hand rose up to grip his shoulder, trying to lever herself closer to him._

"_Snow," he mumbled between kisses, "I don't think Geppetto would appreciate us doing this in his workshop."_

_This prompted her laughter, which was slightly muffled from their kiss. "Then why are we still here?" she saucily inquired._

James forced himself away from the memory of the dream before his mind wandered to what happened after he carried Snow out of the shop and up to their room.

How could he tell his friends that after only knowing a woman for four days he couldn't stop thinking about her; that he dreamed and daydreamed about her constantly. That he dreamed of having a child with her, watching her become swollen with their baby. How he dreamed of sneaking into the kitchens late at night to make hot cocoa with her, and laughing and teasing each other over their mugs. Curling up in front of a fire with her in his arms and the two of them talking about whatever might come to mind or was bothering them. Always having her by his side and sharing each other's burdens; raising their children together, growing old side by side. How could he expect his friends and brother to understand these dreams and desires for a woman he barely knew, when he could hardly explain them to himself? The dreams where she's in his arms crying out in ecstasy are easily explainable; she was without a doubt the most beautiful woman in every way he had ever met, and as shown by the kiss they shared she was naturally very passionate. What man wouldn't dream about such a woman? _Why did she have to be so far away?_ a voice in the back of his mind complained.

"Who exactly _is_ this Princess Snow White that she does this to you?" Phillip all but demanded, completely confounded that James would act his way. "What on earth is she like that she could distract you so completely?"

James spun on him. "Do you want to hear that I liked her when I didn't think I would? Well, I did. She is kind and intelligent; has a sharp wit to match her tongue and temper, which I would pay dearly to see her unleash on the three of you at the moment. I respect her greatly as a person, and one day she'll make an amazing queen, whether she marries or not." He turned back on heel continuing down the hall toward his room, not saying _half_ of what he could about Snow; not wanting to give them even more fodder.

"What do you mean '_if_' she gets married?" Liam questioned.

"She's not required to by the laws of succession in her kingdom," James elaborated, not turning.

"Lucky her," Phillip grumbled. He'd been complaining more and more loudly over the years about the marriage his parents had arranged for him as a child to the, at the time, infant Princess Aurora; he hadn't seen her since she was about six years old; by now she would be full grown, and the time for them to marry was closing in.

James gave an aggravated sigh. "Phillip, when are you going to stop complaining to us about your betrothal and either _tell_ your father you want no part in it or actually go _meet_ your fiancée and give it a try?"

"At least you have _some_ choice," the dark haired prince said sourly.

James's temper finally snapped. "Yeah," he agreed sarcastically, turning to look at him. "_Two_. And if I'm not careful in handling the situation I could incite war," he added darkly, looking at his friend levelly in the eye. "At least if you were to break things off with Aurora you wouldn't have to worry about her parents threatening your kingdom." He spun back around and this time when he stalked off they didn't follow.

They all knew this to be true. Phillip's father and Aurora's parents dearly wanted the marriage, it would benefit both of their kingdoms to merge them together, and their families had always been close friends; a marriage to unite the families had always been a hope for them. However if the prince or princess were to decide not to go through with it, while their families would be disappointed, they would cancel the betrothal on good terms.

James had no such assurance, and he wasn't even betrothed.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Welcome, Princess Snow White and Mistress Redell," a portly man bowed to the pair with all the pomp and circumstance that he usually embodied.

"Thank you, Cogsworth," Snow said as she and Red dismounted from their horses. "Have Aurora and Eric already arrived?" They allowed the stable hands to lead their steeds off.

"Yes, Your Majesty. They are with the Master in the garden." He made a sweeping gesture for them to follow him. "Right this way."

Once his back was turned, both women looked at each other with matching expressions of barely contained laughter. Snow's family had several characters who worked in the castle, but nothing compared to the ones that Gaspard employed.

"Ah! Princesse Snow White! Mademoiselle Redell!"

And yet another character sped up to them, claiming each of their hands to kiss with great flourishes and complimenting them both over and over in French.

The pair barely managed to contain the laughter that wanted to flow forth, particularly at the annoyance on Cogsworth's face, which of course was part of the reason Lumiere was putting on the ridiculous show.

"It's good to see you, Lumiere," Snow greeted, her voice a little strangled from her efforts to keep from laughing.

"Lumiere," Red just barely managed.

Cogsworth cleared his throat, shouldering Lumiere to the side. "The Master, Princess Aurora and Prince Eric are this way," he gestured in the direction of the gardens.

Lumiere swept a flourished bow to both women as they passed by him and followed behind them.

Snow had long been of the opinion that one of the main reasons Gaspard's parents had originally hired the two men was for the pure comedic value; which was probably part of the same reason that Gaspard had retained them in his employ. The other reason that the squabbling pair retained their jobs was that, for all their fighting, the two of them and Mrs. Potts, the housekeeper, kept the castle and external affairs running in perfect order and between the three of them there had yet to be a problem to arise that they couldn't handle. Cogsworth tended to be Gaspard's ambassador and inter-kingdom negotiator; he knew how to sooth the most ruffled royal feathers and the customs of _all_ kingdoms. Lumiere, for all his looking and acting like a fop, was a keen spy among the nobility, he was prodigious in his ability to read people and sort fact from fiction in news and gossip. Mrs. Potts was a sweet, dumpy woman who maintained order in the castle with a bright smile and gentle word, as well as a firm hand and shrewd mind. Outsiders were consistently underestimating what Redell liked to refer to as the "triumvirate" because of how they appeared; those who knew them however made no such mistake.

The women were finally shown out onto the terrace that led down to the gardens. Gaspard looked up from where he was staring out over the green at their approach; a grin spread across his face. With his longer, light colored hair, ocean blue eyes and height, King Gaspard of Rosewood would have been considered a handsome man by conventional standards…were it not for the vicious scars that marred his face. When he'd been eleven he and his parents were in a terrible carriage accident that took their lives and left him alive but horribly scarred, both physically and emotionally. He'd been a boisterous, somewhat proud boy, but after the accident he'd become almost reclusive, pained and humble. He likely would have withdrawn from the outside world entirely had it not been for Snow, Red, Eric and Aurora weathering his temper, which in his pain and grief had lashed out frequently in the early days after the accident, and refusing to let him pull away.

"Snow; Red," he greeted warmly, leaning on his cane.

They exchanged embraces that revealed the close, filial-like bond between them.

"Cogsworth said that Aurora and Eric are here?" Snow questioned after kissing his cheek.

Wry amusement infused his expression. "Oh, they are." He nodded to the green, where both women now realized they could hear some faint clacks and thuds; they moved over to the railing where Gaspard had been standing.

The blond princess and dark haired prince were sparring back and forth below. The usually calm and demure princess's harder than usual strikes and movements revealed a great deal of frustration and annoyance. Eric, whom they all knew was a better swordsman than the young woman, was harder pressed than usual to keep his blocks up with the wooden practice swords.

Red's eyebrows were high on her forehead as she turned to the prince beside them. "What's has Aurora so mad? And why'd Eric sign up for this for this self-flagellation?"

Gaspard leaned back against the railing. "Apparently Aurora's parents have become more insistent about her and Prince Phillip meeting again to set up a formal engagement and a wedding date."

The two women grimaced.

"Yeah," the younger woman acknowledged, "that would set her off."

Aurora hadn't seen her betrothed since she was a small child; her few memories of him weren't positive. After Snow, the only princess in high court that she'd liked, had stopped attending she'd begged her parents to no longer make her; they had agreed and she had not seen the prince since she was six.

"Well, that explains Aurora. What's Eric's excuse for taking this abuse?" Red asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gaspard shrugged. "I have no idea. They arrived at the same time about two hours ago and once Aurora had changed they started right into sparring. She was muttering quite loudly about her parents, which is how I know what's wrong with her, but Eric, as you both know, plays things close to the chest until he's ready to talk about them."

"Mm," Snow nodded, a little worriedly.

Eric's family was a new monarchy; their kingdom, Seaside, had been created only about two decades ago, his parents were the first rulers. They were still working out many of the issues involved in building a kingdom; it left them with little time to socialize so they didn't involve themselves with the High Court yet. Aurora's kingdom, Glenbriar, and Gaspard's were their closest neighbors so the families had managed to build friendships between them. Through them Eric had met Snow and Red. The princesses and princes had bonded over being the "outcasts" of the High Court and Red had slipped into the group through her lifelong friendship with Snow.

Eric apparently noticed the two women standing beside Gaspard and said something to Aurora, who lowered her practice weapon and looked up at them; they both waved at their audience, who responded in kind. The prince and princess then began heading up the stairs toward their friends.

"You know," Red muttered to Snow, "it's really rather odd seeing Aurora in breeches."

"You see me in them all the time," the dark haired princess, responded in an equally low voice.

"Yeah, but that's you. This is _Aurora_ we're talking about," Red commented wryly.

"I'm not sure if you just insulted me or not," the older woman sardonically returned.

"It's more of an observation."

Snow rolled her eyes, but she had to admit that her friend had a point. Snow _was_ more inclined to wear breeches since she was always running around in the woods, riding, practicing swordsmanship and archery, and doing other things where a dress would get in the way. Aurora wouldn't even let her friends talk her into touching a wooden practice sword until she was twelve, and while she exhibited a greater aptitude for the weapon than even Snow, she still preferred spending her time painting, singing, dancing or embroidering.

"Snow, Red; it's wonderful to see you both," the blond princess greeted them with her usual gentle smile, though there was an edge behind it. The three women exchanged embraces.

"Aurora, it's good to see you," Snow grinned before turning to the dark haired prince who had followed her up the stairs. "Eric." She moved over to hug him. "It's been too long."

He returned the embrace. "I'm sorry about being away for so long. I was happy to get Gaspard's invitation; I needed get away for a couple of days."

"Well, it's about time," Red informed him as she took her turn, hugging him. "Honestly, I thought we'd never see you again."

"I've been rather preoccupied lately."

Aurora gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like she was covering up a laugh or a scoff.

Mrs. Potts chose that moment to bustle out with a few other servants to lay a lunch out on the terrace table for them. All of the young people chimed in "thank you"s, which she responded to with a fond smile at them and then hurried back inside the castle.

"So, Aurora," Red began as they headed for the table, "Gaspard was just telling us about your parents pestering you about Prince Phillip."

The usually proper Aurora scoffed and nearly threw herself into a chair, annoyance vibrating through every line in her body. "I don't see why they're so insistent on this stupid betrothal."

Snow settled into a seat across from the other princess. "Your parents would permit you to break the betrothal if you wished, wouldn't they?"

Aurora made a face. "Yes, but only after I've met him again and made an honest attempt at the betrothal."

"That's reasonable, 'Rora," Gaspard commented from across the table, using their nickname for the blond princess.

She grimaced; nodding reluctantly as she slowly stirred her cup of tea. "I know," she admitted. "It's just that, what I remember of him is a boy who picked on me and pulled my hair."

"That was a long time ago," Snow reminded her, though she herself had few fond memories of the prince as well. "Perhaps he has managed to grow up."

Aurora scoffed again.

"People do usually mature as they grow up, 'Rora," Eric chipped in.

The blond princess turned on him, eyes narrowed. "Hmm," she began, sarcasm thick in her voice, "perhaps he's learned to think with the head on his shoulders rather than other parts of his anatomy."

The other three choked on whatever they were eating or drinking in that moment at hearing such a crass comment coming from her. They looked back and forth between the fair haired princess and dark haired prince. While their group had always been close Aurora and Eric had what was basically a sibling relationship since their castles were only a short horseback ride apart. Right now Eric was glaring at her with a clenched jaw and Aurora met him head on with a mutinous look of her own.

"Umm," Red began, "what exactly are we missing here?"

"Oh, yes, Eric!" Aurora said in a saccharine sweet voice. "Why don't you tell them _exactly_ why you've been so 'preoccupied' lately?"

The three other friends traded wary looks before turning back to the pair who seemed to be having a stare-down. They said nothing for the moment, allowing the two to have one of their silent fights that they would have. There were several moments of them just glaring with little change to their expressions. Aurora raised an eyebrow, he narrowed his eyes, she canted her head to the side giving him an almost droll look, he clenched his jaw again, and triumph flashed in her eyes as she sat back, arms crossed over her chest.

"I met someone," he ground out through gritted teeth, eyes still burning holes in the woman he considered his sister. "A woman."

There were dropped jaws and raised eyebrows from the three audience members.

Eric, noticing their expressions out of the corner of his eye, turned to them frowning. "Why are you acting so surprised?"

Red cocked an eyebrow at him. "Hmm, gee, Eric. Maybe it has to do with the fact that in all the years we've known you, you haven't even _mentioned_ a woman in a romantic context _ever_?"

Aurora gave a mirthless laugh. "That's not even the _real_ news yet." She turned to the dark haired prince. "Tell them _who_ she _is_."

He gave her a cutting look.

"Eric…" Snow began, a little uneasily.

He pressed his lips together. "Her name is Ariel."

Snow and Red glanced at each other, sharing confused looks, but Gaspard had frowned for a moment and then comprehension dawned.

His eyelids slid shut and he rubbed a hand over his face. "Oh gods, Eric. _Really_?"

"Umm…" Red raised a hand. "Would someone care to clue the two of us in?" She gestured between herself and her princess.

Gaspard let his hand drop and looked at Eric and Aurora. "Would one of you care to explain, or shall I?"

Aurora was looking fit to be tied and shook her head. "I'm too mad right now."

Eric gestured for the other prince to go ahead.

Gaspard turned to the other two women. "Ariel is one of the seven daughters of King Triton." He glanced at Eric and Aurora. "The youngest if I'm not mistaken."

"You're not," Aurora assured him sourly.

Red's jaw had nearly hit the ground. "Oh, _hell_! Please tell me you're _joking_!"

Snow's head had dropped into her hands. "Eric, do you have a _death wish_?" She looked back up at him, incredulous.

"I'm not an idiot!" he snapped at them testily as he shot out of his seat. "I know that it is impossible." He moved over to the railing. "I know I can't ever be with her, not only because she's a mermaid and I'm human but because her father would _never_ allow it. But…that doesn't change what either of us feels."

Silence reigned. Aurora had calmed substantially now that she no longer was carrying the burden of worry for Eric alone, and she was feeling somewhat guilty for lashing out at him.

Snow glanced around the group. Aurora, who normally would have been the one to talk Eric back, was feeling too guilty at the moment. Gaspard, while a brilliant man, had never been good with talking to others. Red…well, Snow wouldn't trust her to have the tact to handle the situation. And the fact of the matter was, Snow was probably the one most able to empathize with him on matters of the heart at the moment, not that _she'd_ ever admit to it.

The dark haired princess rose from her seat and approached the prince. She laid a gentle hand on one of his arms. "No, Eric, it doesn't change it," she agreed softly. He looked over his shoulder at her, and she gave him a tight smile. "We can't help who we love."

Eric gave her a slightly pained smile, resting a hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently. "Thank you."

Her smile softened. "You're welcome."

He allowed her to pull him back to the table.

As he sat down Aurora caught his hand; he turned to her to find her looking at him with a mixture of sadness and guilt.

"I'm sorry, Eric," she told him softly. "I shouldn't have said those things. It's no excuse, but I was just so stressed from my parents' insistence, and I'm so scared for you with everything involving Ariel…"

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I shouldn't have asked you to bear that burden alone."

She gripped his hand tightly and looked up at him pleadingly. "Forgive me?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Getting there," he promised.

She returned it with a small one of her own. "Thank you."

After the emotional turmoil they ate for several moments in a pregnant silence.

Gaspard finally cleared his throat. "Speaking of love lives." His eyes discreetly cut to the dark haired princess. "I heard that Prince James of Seaborn paid your family a visit, Snow."

She choked on her hot cocoa; her head whipped around to Red, who smirked but raised her hands in a silent protest of innocence.

"It wasn't exactly a secret, Snow," Eric commented drolly.

She rolled her eyes. "Perhaps not, but I didn't expect it to be enough of a deal to catch you three's attention."

Aurora commented dryly, "When a viable suitor visits you, of _course_ we're going to take an interest." She took a bite of the salad. "What was he like?"

Snow was having trouble deciding what to tell her friends, she was terrible at hiding things and they knew here all too well, which was precisely why she'd been hoping to avoid the topic of Charming entirely.

"Oh, he was quite _charming_," Red told them, meaningfully.

Snow pressed her lips together, glaring at her friend; the younger woman met her stare, smirking.

Red raised an eyebrow. "You can tell them about him or I will quite happily do so…"

The dark haired princess closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then opened them again. "Prince James –"

"You don't _call_ him 'Prince James'," Red tauntingly said.

Snow glared at her friend again.

"What _do_ you call him?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow.

The two dark haired women looked at each other, Red's eyes dancing with mischief, and Snow's telegraphing "don't you _dare_". The younger woman gave her a look that clearly once again told her "you do it or I will".

Snow closed her eyes again, bracing herself. "Prince Charming."

Aurora choked on her tea, Eric threw back his head laughing and Gaspard was coughing into a napkin.

The dark haired princess looked at the three narrowly. "I first called him that when he was being _not_ so 'charming'," she told them by way of explanation. She then shrugged a little uncomfortably. "Then it just stuck."

Aurora dabbed at her mouth, eyes dancing with laughter. "So he wasn't being charming in that moment, but he proved to be afterward?"

Snow rolled her eyes. "He _can_ be." She sipped her cocoa. "On occasion."

"That's not _all_ that he can be," Red informed their friends gleefully.

"Red…" the dark haired princess said warningly through gritted teeth.

"Do tell," Eric smirked.

"He's also _excellent_ with children."

"Really?" Aurora was grinning broadly.

"He pretended to be a dragon for the children to 'slay' and helped watch the tailor's children while his wife was going through difficult birth," Red elaborated.

The three royals looked to the fourth, who was staring off at the gardens, jaw set.

"There's more," Red said in a sing-song voice.

Snow's eyes cut to her friend glaringly.

"He let Granny boss him around and peeled potatoes for the celebration in our kitchen."

Three knowing grins turned on the dark haired princess.

"He helped with other preparations for the festival; was quite happy to mingle among us 'common folk', and quite relaxed about it too, he's spent time doing so before," Red finished.

The Cheshire cat grins that were turned in Snow's direction had her glaring back at her friends.

"So, when's the wedding?" Aurora asked cheekily.

Snow rolled her eyes skyward. "You're all ridiculous," she informed them tartly. "There's no such understanding between us." She stood. "And likely never will be." She turned and headed inside, ignoring pang in her heart at her own words.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James quietly stepped into the library, glancing around. It was the second largest collection in the realm, out done only by King Gaspard's library. He wandered down the center aisle, looking down each of the rows, searching. About three-quarters of the way across the vast room he finally spotted her in the fantasy section up on a stool, the skirt of her blue dress brushing over her calves and long, curly, brown tail swaying down her back. She was trying to reach a shelf that was just a few inches out of her reach, even on the stool.

He kept his footsteps silent as he approached her; coming to a stop directly behind her. "Need some help?"

She yelped in surprise, spinning around on the stool; she would have gone toppling off her perch had he not reached out and grasped her waist to steady her.

She gasped a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart; once her pulse had slowed somewhat she scowled at him. "Do you _enjoy_ scaring the living daylights out of me, James?" She swatted away his hands, brow furrowed down at him.

He grinned, shrugging. "Just trying to remind you that there's a world outside of this room, Belle, and keep you on your toes." He nodded to the book in her hands. "May I?"

She handed the tome to him, accepting his proffered hand down from the stool. "Might as well find _some_ use for you," she stated sourly.

James chuckled softly as he stepped up part way on the step stool and easily reached up to replace the book.

"So, I heard that you have taken an interest in the princess of Everland."

He fumbled the book, nearly dropping it. He looked down at his friend who now had her arms crossed and was smirking up at him with some satisfaction. James rolled his eyes as he looked back up at the shelf and slid the book into its proper place.

This done he stepped back down and mirrored her posture. "Which source might this come from?"

The librarian pressed her lips together and looked upward in mock thoughtfulness. "Let me see, I believe that I might have heard three men who were gossiping on like the merry wives of Windsor."

James scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Not an incorrect description of those three."

Belle gave a soft laugh and turned to begin heading down the row, him walking beside her. "Well they did seem genuinely worried about you, or at least Thomas was."

He sighed. "He need not be."

"Shouldn't he?" she countered, stopping again and turning to face him; he did the same. "You have a lot of pressure on you right now, James. A big decision to make and less than a year to make it in."

He looked away, jaw clenched.

Belle canted her head to the side, giving him a look. "You can't just forget about it, James."

"How well I know that, no matter how much I wish it weren't so," he told her grimly.

She hugged the books still in her arms to her chest. "I know how you detest Princess Abigail." Her expression became inquiring. "But how do you feel about Princess Snow White?"

The prince looked down. "There is no understanding between us to speak of."

Belle watched him through narrow, assessing eyes. "No…_official_ understanding…"

He lifted his eyes to her shrewd, brown ones.

Her expression cleared and her lips formed a wordless "ah".

He gave a soft snort and his lips quirked into one of his half-smiles. "You always have been good at reading between the lines."

"Well," she stated as they turned and continued their leisurely walk down the aisle, "I may spend most of my time with my nose in books, but I also have spent a great deal of time watching people."

"True," James acknowledged. "Snow and I…" He didn't know how to really begin. Unlike his brother and two friends he knew that Belle would listen to him without judgment and it would never go beyond her.

Belle kept silent while he arranged his thoughts.

"What happened between us…" He shook his head; this time it was he that brought them to a stop. "It was fast, sudden and so very _intense_."

The librarian looked at him searchingly. "Are you in love with her?"

His head snapped to her, expression unguarded.

Shock flared into her face. "Oh goddess!" she gasped. "You are!"

"I didn't _say_ that," he returned firmly. He crossed his arms over his chest as Belle raised her eyebrows at him. "It's – it just –" He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face, and then he looked back at her. "We only knew each other four days and – ah, gods, Belle!" He scrubbed both hands over his face, running them back, over the crown of his head to fist in his hair. "I don't know how she got so far into me. It's like…" He let his hands drop and looked around, searching for inspiration; seeming to find at least a vestige of how to phrase what he was trying to say, he looked back at her. "It's like she was already _in_ my heart to begin with."

She was staring at him wide-eyed.

"What?" he asked frowning.

She bit her lip. "It's just…" She shook her head, as if dismissing what she was about to say. "Never mind." She began to move off again

James caught her arm, gently bringing her to a stop again. "What, Belle?"

She took in his intent interest and took a deep breath, hugging the books to her chest tighter for comfort. "Just that…what you're describing sounds a great deal like…" she bit her lip again.

"Like…?" he looked at her expectantly.

She swallowed. "Gods, this is going to sound ridiculous," she muttered to herself, before continuing to him, "It sounds a lot like how I've heard and read soulmates being described."

His hand dropped from her arm, his expression stunned.

"The sudden, intense feelings and connection between you two. Feeling as if you've always loved her." She looked at him evenly. "These are things I've heard and seen applied to soulmates; one true loves."

James stared off to the side. His first thought was Snow's words on the subject: _"True love? It doesn't exist."_ But he was having a difficult time arguing with his friend's words, since he too had heard similar things. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "When the hell did my life become so damned complicated?"

"If you were to choose Princess Snow White, King Midas couldn't claim too much insult since the gain in such a marriage would be greater than one between you and Princess Abigail," Belle pointed out.

The prince gave a bitter laugh, and looked back down at her. "This is King Midas we're talking about; we can't be sure _how_ he'll respond if I were to reject the proposed engagement, even for one of greater material gain."

She winced, realizing that the prince was right.

He shook his head. "Can we discuss something else?"

"Of course," she agreed as they began heading back down the aisle, turning into the next row where she needed to replace a book.

"Have you heard from Jasmine recently?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes," she informed him wryly. "She told me how Raja helped her get rid of her father's most recent potential suitor for her."

James laughed softly. "She just seems to become more and more creative in her ways of ridding herself of them."

She slid one of the books into its proper place. "I just wonder when her father is going to figure out that she'll never marry for duty. Knowing her she'll fall in love with a street urchin." She continued down the row.

He grinned at her sardonic words. "Why do you two pick on each other so much?"

"Because we like each other," she told him simply.

They stopped at one shelf. "So because you like each other so well, you poke fun at each other?" he clarified.

She snapped the book into its spot before turning to him. "Exactly. Now you're catching on," she told him in a mock patronizing tone before turning and starting off again.

He rolled his eyes skyward. "You know, aside from Snow and Jasmine, when she even deigns to speak to me, you have to be the only woman who makes fun of me, to my face at least."

"Yes, well, Jasmine and I have absolutely _no_ marital interest in you, so there's no reason for us to sugar coat things," she informed him offhandedly as they reached her desk. She leaned against the scarred wooden surface saying, "Now, as for the fact that Princess Snow White has no problem poking fun at you, that actually makes me feel even more hopeful at your chances at marital bliss together."

He frowned in mock thought. "Somehow I feel like that should not be logical in the least."

"And yet we both know that it is," she smiled at him brightly.

"And Phillip has wondered all these years why I _avoided_ getting romantically involved with anyone," he commented wryly.

Belle laughed. "I believe your reprieve is up," she gently teased him, as she moved around to sit behind her desk. "So was there something in particular you wanted to see me about?" she inquired once she was settled.

"Yes," he confirmed, switching tracks. "I wanted to let you know that I'll be heading out of town for a couple of weeks with Thomas to Riverdon. Father says that it's about time he starts spending time in his future kingdom." He watched her closely. "I wanted to see if there was anything you needed before I left."

She cast her eyes at him wryly. "Translation: you want to know if I'm going to be all right with you being gone for so long."

He gave her a self-deprecating smile in response.

She took a deep breath. "You can't always be around, James, particularly once you get married. I have to get used to my stalwart protector being gone."

He covered her hand with his. "Belle, you don't have to be strong all the time. I know that you still rarely go to the market, and _never_ without Thomas, Liam or I."

She looked down, pressing her lips together, frustration lining her face. "I _hate_ it that he can still make me feel this way!" she hissed out fiercely.

Fury flashed in his eyes. "Just because the source of our fears is gone doesn't mean they automatically disappear."

She stood agitatedly and went to stand at the nearby window. "Doesn't make it any less frustrating."

"No," he agreed, joining her. "But things take time."

Her hand pressed against the glass. "And meanwhile I live in under the tether of fear."

He rested a comforting hand wordlessly on her shoulder.

They stood like that for several moments.

Belle allowed her hand to slide down the pane; she took a deep breath. "Go on, James." She looked over her shoulder, giving him a tight smile. "I will survive." The smallest amount of amusement touched her lips. "Who knows, I may finally decide to go to town on my own while you're gone."

James gave her a teasing, wry smile. "What, now are you trying to make me _not_ go?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Thank you for handling my turning the tables on you earlier so well."

Snow and Gaspard were walking through his rose gardens; he was trimming dead roses off of the bushes. Though he had gardeners, whenever he was able Gaspard would tend to the roses himself. After his parents' deaths he had found peace in his father's splendid library and caring for his mother's roses. The library and garden were still his sanctuaries when he needed to pull away from his duties for a time. He was the first of them to take up his kingdom's throne; his coronation had been the past summer. Snow, Aurora and Eric didn't envy his new burdens; they were all grateful that they each still had time until they needed to step up to their respective thrones. However they had been increasingly pulled more and more into the day-to-day running of their kingdoms by their parents, to prepare them to take over. This had made it more and more difficult for them to get together, which made them all the more grateful for the two days that they had now.

Snow cast a wry smile at him. "It's fine. We needed the mood broken after the news with Eric…" They were all still worried over that situation.

He snipped off a particularly lovely white bloom and presented it to the princess. "And I'm sorry that we gave you such hell."

Snow smirked, thanking him as she lifted the rose to her nose and inhaled the delicate fragrance. "We're friends; part of our jobs is to give each other hell."

He chuckled softly as they continued their stroll. "That does seem the case."

Snow stared down at the flower in her hand, gingerly twirling it between her fingers.

Gaspard's steady, limping gait kept pace beside her; she knew that he was waiting for her to talk. He knew the reason she had really wanted to come with him when he tended to the roses was so they could speak alone. It had taken several years for him to cultivate the art of listening to and reading people, but once he had, he'd proven to be quite adept at it.

She took a deep breath before beginning. "Gaspard, you remember all of our discussions about true love?"

"Mm," he confirmed, nodding. "We haven't had one in a couple of years, though."

"Indeed," she agreed. She bit her lip. "Do you believe in it?"

He stopped for a moment to trim a couple of deadheads; using the task to give himself time to contemplate his words. When he'd finished he turned back and they continued walking. "What my parents' shared makes me want to say yes."

Snow nodded, knowing that this was nowhere near the extent of what he had to say; she looked at him watchfully.

Gaspard kept his gaze forward. "But then I look in the mirror and call myself a fool, because what woman would want me for anything other than my title?"

Snow grabbed his arm, looking at him fiercely. "Don't say that!" she snapped. "Any woman who can't see your worth – beyond your crown – is the one who is a fool!"

He gave her a wry smile, placing a hand over hers. "Thank you, Snow, though we both know you're biased. But while you and I have romantic hearts, we're both realists as well, and while we might wish to the contrary, we both know _very_ few women would be able to look beyond the surface."

She grimaced, but didn't disagree.

He shifted her hand on his arm into an escorting position and they continued once more.

Snow rested her cheek into Gaspard's shoulder. "They don't deserve you," she told him.

He looked down at her with an affectionate smile. "Again, you _are_ somewhat biased."

She gave him a humorous smile. "Doesn't make it any less true," she countered.

He chuckled. "So what _is_ between you and the heir of Seaborn?" he inquired.

She held the rose with her thumb and index fingers and used the other three to rub her forehead. "I wouldn't even know how to begin."

"The beginning is always a good place," he teased her.

She tossed him a droll look. "Cute. The question is: where _is_ the beginning?"

"Ah…I see." He nodded in comprehension.

"Wonderful, then maybe you can help _me_, understand it," she told him dryly. "Gods, this is insane." She pressed her face into his shoulder with a groan. "A hardly even know how to describe what I feel for him." After a few moments she lifted her head to stare upward and then looked back down at the rose she was holding. "You're right about us both being realists," she agreed. "You've heard me say many times before that I don't believe in true love."

"Which we both know is just you trying to protect yourself," he put in.

She pursed her lips, annoyed at how well he knew her, but didn't argue. "It all just happened so _fast_."

Gaspard pulled them to a stop, frowning worriedly down at her. "Just how far did you two go?"

Snow glared at him. "Not _that_ far. You'd think with my lack of history with men you'd give me _some_ credit," she groused.

"You, yes," he confirmed. "Him…I don't know. From what I've heard he has not involved himself with many, if _any,_ women, and he is a true gentleman. However, he _is_ friends with Prince Phillip, and we both know that _he_ has a reputation as a flirt, at best."

Snow sighed softly. "Poor Aurora."

"It _is_ mostly rumor," Gaspard, put in.

"But…" she tacked on.

"Indeed, 'but'." He shook his head disappointedly. "I truly believe that things would be a lot better off if parents wouldn't meddle in the romantic affairs of their children."

"You and I are fortunate that our parents weren't interested in such affairs," she commented.

"True," Gaspard agreed. "Though I think it has also made us reluctant to entangle ourselves at all."

"Mm," she reluctantly confirmed. She rested her temple on his shoulder again.

There had been a time when she and Gaspard had considered the possibility of them becoming involved. By the standards of their ilk they were a good match, and they cared for each other a great deal, loved each other even, which was more than many royals had going into marriage. But neither of them could really get around the idea; to them if felt too much like marrying their sibling. So the idea had died a quiet and early death and they had slipped right back into their old, easy relationship. He was the big brother she'd never had, but was oh-so-grateful for; a willing ear and a sturdy shoulder.

"You know," she began quietly. "Someday, you'll find the right woman," he gave a soft laugh, but she continued in a definitive voice, "and she will be the luckiest one in the world." She looked up at him smiling.

He gave her a soft smile and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You have a good heart, Snow. You will make some man the happiest man alive."

She took a deep breath. "For the first time in my life…I hope that you're right."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, I gave "The Beast" from _Beauty and the Beast_ the name "Gaspard"; this was actually pulled from a _Beauty and the Beast_ young adult novel by Cameron Dokey called _Belle_, where the Beast's name was Gaspard. I hope that you liked the chapter, and that my characterizations of different Disney-fied fairy tales did them _some_ justice. You will be seeing more of them and others, though some of the more recent - like Rapunzel and the Frog Prince – may or may not show up at all, since I'm not as familiar with them. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 6: Promises, Promises

*Starts dancing around* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE REVIEWS, FAVES AND ALERTS! WOW! I'm so glad you all liked it! Many of you said that you want to see the romances of the other characters; while this _is_ a Snow/Charming-centric story I've always planned on showing at least some of the other couples' romances and other characters getting back to their happy endings. I did get a question about the flashbacks, to clarify: this is a post-curse story and I will _eventually_ have them remember.

A big thank you to **Happy Endings for All** for beta-ing this!

Well, here's the next chapter! I hope that you all like it! :D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 6: Promises, Promises…**

It was likely near-on midnight. James was in the tallest tower of the castle; it had been given no purpose other than the occasional lover's rendezvous…or a retreat for someone seeking to be left alone. He was sitting in one of the crenels with his back against a merlon, one leg stretched out along the crenel and the other bent up; he stared out at the moonlit seascape.

"You know, James, if you don't want to be found you really need to find a new hiding place," a wry voice commented from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder at Liam. "What'd be the point? You'd just find it anyway." He looked back out at the night. "I figure I might as well save us both the time."

His friend came over to lean against the merlon at his feet. "You've been coming up here since we were kids." He looked out at the stars. "One'd think you'd get tired of the view after all these years."

"Nah," the prince shook his head, "best view in the kingdom."

"No denying that," his friend acknowledged.

They remained in a comfortable silence for several moments.

"So, why'd you come up here to bother me?" James finally asked.

Liam cleared his throat. "It's just this trip to Riverdon –"

"The answer is no, Liam," the prince cut in.

"James I would feel much better if I was going with you and Thomas," the general was frowning deeply.

"And I _need_ you here," James countered. "Not only to keep the men's training up to par, but for Belle too." He looked at the other man. "Aside from Thomas and me, you're the only man she really trusts, and the only one _I_ trust with her."

Liam's mouth was set in a grim line, clearly torn. He was unwaveringly loyal to his prince, and preferred to be the one in charge of his guard at all times, but he, like James and Thomas, had come to care for the librarian like a sister.

"She made a comment about going into town on her own; made it to be joking, but we both know that when she does that she is usually serious." James turned slightly, to properly face his friend. "I want her to go; I want her to regain more of her independence and beat back this fear that's been keeping her captive."

Liam nodded. "Understood. What do you want me to do?"

He turned completely, lowering his feet to the floor and leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. "If she does go I want you to follow her…discreetly."

The general narrowed his eyes. "You fear for her?"

James clenched his jaw. "Gaston might be banished, but it's not infallible, he could still possibly return."

The other man scowled. "The bastard should have been sentenced to death," he growled.

Fury was flickering in the prince's eyes. "I couldn't agree more. Any man who does what he tried to do to Belle, in my opinion, deserves no less, but our laws are clear; banishment was the extent that we could go."

"Yes, well," his general began grimly, "if he ever _does_ show up again he's going be killed while 'attempting to escape our custody'."

James raised an eyebrow at his friend's meaningful tone. "I didn't hear that."

Liam smirked. "You know that even if he _did_ make it as far as your dungeons he wouldn't last past his first meal."

The prince chuckled darkly. "The rest of the staff have become quite fond of her, haven't they?"

"It's impossible not to be," his friend pointed out.

"True," he agreed.

Liam gave a resigned sigh. "Very well, I shall remain here, though I insist on Hama going with you in my stead," the general's voice brooked no argument on his second in command being the one to head up their guard while in Riverdon.

The prince's lips quirked in amusement at being ordered by his general. "That's fine," he acknowledged, though they both his agreement was just a formality; Liam would do as he would see necessary for the safety of his princes.

The general leaned his shoulder once again against the merlon, eyeing his liege. "So," he began, "will we be seeing Princess Snow White any time soon?"

James rolled his eyes.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow stared out over the pond that graced the edge of Gaspard's castle's lands. She'd changed into breeches, a tunic and vest earlier in the evening to practice her archery; now she sat on the platform of the tree house with her feet dangling over the edge. During Gaspard's tenth summer his parents had commissioned Geppetto to build the tree house on their property. The five youths had spent hours up there playing as children and now, as adults, they would frequently retreat up to it if they needed time alone. She silently contemplated the gentle ripples the wind played over the water.

"Is this a solitary party, or may I join you?"

She looked down and grinned upon seeing Eric. "What's the magic word?"

He swung himself up on the ladder, laughing. "I don't think _any_ of us remember _that_ one; it changed too many times."

She chuckled. "That's true."

Once he reached the platform he hoisted himself over the edge; he had to nearly crawl to join her at the ledge. "This place just seems to get smaller and smaller every year," he commented sitting down.

"I'm pretty sure that we're the ones who are changing," Snow countered amusedly.

Eric shrugged. "The effect is all the same," he told her dismissively.

She rolled her eyes, leaning forward and bracing her hands on the edge; she turned to look back at the pond.

"So, what did you think of my cousin?"

Snow frowned, turning back to her friend. "Your cousin?"

He smirked, nodding. "Yeah, James and I are distant cousins - third, I think. His grandfather and my grandfather were first cousins; after my great-grandparents died my grandfather was cared for by James's great-grandparents."

Snow nodded, her expression clearing. "I had forgotten that your families were related."

"Well," he shifted a bit, settling in more, "our families haven't really been close since my grandfather died, mostly because my family has so little free time. James and I have only met a handful of occasions; he was mostly too busy to really socialize much, but my impression of him was positive. I know his brother Thomas better."

Snow raised one leg so that she could rest her elbow on it and prop her head on her hand. "What's he like?"

"Thomas? He's a good man, kind, comfortable with letting his elder brother take the lead on things but willing to step up when necessary, he's strong but perhaps not as forceful as James, a good listener and insightful. He definitely looks up to James, though" he tossed an amused grin at her, "I got the feeling that he had taken it upon himself to make sure his brother doesn't lose his sense of humor or take himself too seriously."

"An ideal brother for him, then." She smiled out at the nightscape.

"Indeed."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"So, how did you and Ariel meet?" she turned to him.

Eric rubbed the back of his neck. "I was out for a walk on the jetties one evening just before sunset; she saw me and decided to surface and finally meet a human." He cast her a wry smile. "Ariel is far more interested in the human world than her father would care for."

She drew both of her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest. "I've heard that King Triton dislikes us in general, and will only deal directly with the Seaborn throne."

"That's correct," he nodded in grim confirmation. "And he only does that when_ absolutely_ necessary. I think if he could, he'd avoid interacting with humans all together."

Snow was watching him with a troubled expression. "Does he know about his daughter's interest in our world?"

He grimaced. "Only partially. He knows she's intrigued with us, but I doubt he knows the full extent of her interest…or that she has even_ met_ a human."

She rubbed her upper arms. "Eric…" She waited until he was looking at her again. "I know that you know how dangerous this situation is, but…" She bit her lip and reached out to grip his arm. "Promise me you'll be careful? I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

He gave her a small smile, covering her hand with his. "I promise." He gave her hand one last squeeze before his smile became a smirk. "After all, if something _did_ happen to me I'd have to contend with the wrath of not only you, but Aurora and Red as well. And, honestly, you three are_ much_ scarier than King Triton could_ ever_ be."

Snow rolled her eyes with a smirk, poking him in the shoulder. "And don't you forget it."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Three Days Later_

_Riverdon_

Ella's steps were stumbling as she attempted to carry the pail of milk into the house. Her stepmother and stepsisters had traveled out of town for a month and Ella had been "hired" out to a local merchant, Pierre Le Pieu, of course what money had changed hands went directly to her stepmother and Ella herself saw not a shilling. If it was possible the merchant and his wife treated her worse than her so-called family; she was given even less to eat, more work and less sleep to do it on.

She winced as one of her steps jarred her still-healing sprained ankle; she barely managed to keep herself from falling.

But that was for naught when some boys running by accidentally bumped into her, sending her over onto her bad ankle. The sudden movement and weight was too much for the weakened joint and she went crashing to the ground with a cry of pain. She reached down and grasped her ankle with both hands, trying to hold back the tears from the pain radiating up her leg.

Le Pieu's wife, apparently alerted by the loud crash and Ella's cry, rushed out the door. "You stupid, clumsy girl, look what you've done now!" she snarled at the young woman, upon seeing entire contents of the bucket spilled over the cobble road.

Le Pieu next stormed out the door, his face darkening further at seeing Ella's predicament. He strode right up to the young woman. Ella tried to scoot herself back, away from him. The back of his hand sent her sprawling.

"How _dare_ you!" an outraged voice cried.

Ella lifted her head to see a white clad figure with a long cascade of ebony curls falling down their back, move to stand between Ella and the merchant, like a guardian angel sent to protect her.

"Move, girl," the merchant snarled at the woman.

"No!" the woman snapped back. "I won't let you hurt her!"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James sauntered through the market, he was causing a small stir but he ignored it and just endeavored to put people as much at ease as possible. He and Thomas had arrived at Riverdon Castle two days before with little fanfare, assuring the harried staff that there was no need to stand on ceremony. The castle had been fairly dilapidated when King George had announced over a decade ago that he would be releasing control of Riverdon and that James would take the throne. Since then the extensive necessary repairs had been made to the building, at this point they were mostly furnishing rooms and generally preparing the castle for Thomas to take up permanent residency in a year or so. It was somewhat strange walking around the castle that had been originally meant for his occupation, but now would be his brother's home. His presence was mostly just in case his brother required his help with anything, and for general support.

Hama followed him at a companionable distance; relaxed enough that his presence wasn't an insult to James's own abilities, but still alert. James, Thomas and Liam had been discussing transferring the young commander to Riverdon upon Thomas taking the throne. Hama was Liam's protégé and would be an excellent choice for the head of Riverdon's guard. The three of them had decided to consider this visit a sort of test to see how the commander did heading up the guards they brought with them on his own. So far both princes had been pleased.

A necklace on a vendor's cart caught James's eye, he leaned over to get a closer look. It was a thin, delicate, gold chain with a small sapphire pendent hanging from it. It was perfect for his mother; he picked it up, and paid the vendor, giving the man more than enough to cover the jewel. The man stammered his thanks to the prince, who grinned at him broadly as he tucked the necklace away.

He spun at the sound of a loud crash and cry of pain. A few stores down the street people scurried back from something in an alleyway that James couldn't quite see, but he soon heard angry shouts and he hurried over to find out what was going on.

A young woman dressed in rags was sprawled on the ground clutching her cheek, where she had apparently just been struck by the bear of a man towering over her.

James's eyes narrowed in fury at seeing a woman so treated.

Before he could move a lyrical cadence cried out in protest at the man's mistreatment of the young woman and an achingly familiar form darted between the man and woman.

Snow was as lovely as ever as she stood there like an avenging angel, protecting the injured woman.

The raging man demanded she move out of the way but she refused, her jaw set at a defiant angle that brought a smirk to James's face.

That smirk was gone in an instant however as the man drew back his hand, in its place was ice cold fury.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow had arrived in Riverdon's capitol just a couple of hours ago with her father and stepmother, she had almost immediately slipped away to wander the town and to avoid one of Regina's lectures. Her father wouldn't mind all that much, though he wouldn't be pleased that she had also left behind any guards and was on her own.

She stopped at a vendor selling fabrics; she lifted the corner of a thin, white one that had a floral pattern embroidered along the edge. It was light and soft; it would make a lovely wrap she decided and lifted her head to speak to the vendor.

A loud clatter and cry had her spinning to look for the source. Just a few yards away a young woman had fallen in the road, she was clutching her ankle. Snow began to approach the woman with a worried expression when she pulled up short at the nasty words thrown at the injured woman by an older one. When the man struck the girl Snow was outraged and immediately shouted at him.

"How _dare_ you!" she had moved to place herself between the large man and the fallen girl.

His face was contorted in such rage, but there was no back down in Snow, she didn't even flinch as spittle flew in her direction when he snarled at her to get out of the way.

She didn't budge in the slightest. When he raised his hand to strike her she set her jaw and braced herself to take the blow while she mentally prepared herself to draw the knife she had hidden at her ankle.

The hand never flew. It was caught in an iron grip.

Both Snow and the man turned to see who had stopped him.

The emotions that crashed over her at seeing Charming took her breath away. She had known she'd missed him over the past weeks but she hadn't realized just how _much_ until the moment that she saw him. Though, she could have done without ever seeing that expression on his face. His electric blue eyes for once didn't glint with humor or teasing, they held not an ounce of their usual warmth. It was like staring at a glacier, frigid…and oh-so furious. She almost pitied the man at whom it was directed…_almost_.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella stared up, wide eyed at her two saviors, she wasn't sure who the beautiful dark haired woman was, but there was no mistaking Prince James.

"Your Majesty!" Le Pieu gaped.

"One thing you should know about my family, _sir_," Ella could hear the barely controlled rage in the prince's voice and the thick sarcasm when he called the merchant "sir", "is that neither my brother nor I tolerate violence against women, particularly ones who are unarmed."

"But, Your Highness –"

The prince didn't give Le Pieu the chance to finish whatever he was going to say, he just turned to call over his shoulder, "Hama."

A man with a short blond ponytail stepped up.

Prince James jerked the merchant off balance in the other man's direction, who took custody of Le Pieu. "Take this filth to the palace and inform my brother of his crimes." The prince cast an eye at the dark haired woman who was still standing defensively in front of Ella. "And you can add to the list threatening the heir to the throne of Everland."

Whispers broke out all around them and all color drained from the faces of Le Pieu and his wife.

"H-he-heir?" the merchant actually squeaked out.

Ella's own eyes had gone as wide as saucers and turned to the white clad woman who had turned from the crowd to crouch down beside Ella, her hands gently running over the blond woman's ankle. Ella couldn't seem to get her voice to work; she was just so shocked at having a _princess_ kneeling next to her trying to tend to her injuries.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

While the knight, Hama, dragged the vile man off Charming moved to kneel beside Snow and the blond woman. Snow could feel his eyes burning into her, she tried to ignore it but after only a handful of heartbeats she lifted her eyes slowly to his. She could see the anger in his eyes.

"We'll discuss your lack of protection later, _Princess_," he managed tightly in a low voice meant only for her ears.

She narrowed her own eyes at him, her temper leaping to match his. "I told you once, _Charming_, I'm my own person."

She could see him clenching his jaw, but they both knew now was not the time for one of their arguments and they managed to turn their attention to the young woman.

Snow softened her expression. "I'm Princess Snow White and this is Prince James. What's your name?"

The young woman swallowed nervously, eyes darting between the two royals before finally managing, "Ella…De Barbarac."

Snow smiled at the younger woman warmly. "It's nice to meet you, Ella. Where are you hurt?"

"I-I'm…all right, Your Majesty. Really – AH!" she broke off with a cry as Charming had lifted her swollen ankle to inspect it.

He raised an eyebrow at Ella. "That doesn't look 'all right' to me."

"Where do you live?" Snow inquired.

The woman who had yelled at Ella earlier stepped forward, clearing her throat, looking meeker in the presence of the two royals. "Her family's out of town, Your Majesties, she's stayin' with us. We hired her."

The princess's eyes narrowed. "So you treat a paid employee this way?" she didn't bother to hide the sarcasm and scorn thick in her tone.

The prince had leveled the woman with a dark look of his own and she quailed under their combined fury.

"Well… I mean…"

"They don't pay me."

All heads turned to Ella, whose voice had rung clear and confident in that moment. The young woman's eyes were on the fidgeting woman. "They paid my stepmother for me to work for them while she and my stepsisters were out of town."

Charming's head turned to the woman, raising an eyebrow, anger still flickering in his eyes. "You and her stepmother bartered for her like a slave?"

All color drained from the woman's face and she swallowed convulsively.

The prince rose to his full height, towering over the now-fearful woman. "You will retrieve Mistress De Barbarac's belongings, along with enough money to pay her proper wages. I want you gone by tomorrow evening. Are we clear?"

The woman's head bobbed and she was gone.

Snow had never seen Charming actually wield his power as a prince before; it was somewhat strange after how she had seen him conversing and mingling so easily among her people. He didn't raise his voice once, though his cold, cutting tone was more threatening than any shouting could have ever been. He knelt back down beside the two women, his gaze and voice softening as he turned to Ella. "Your ankle doesn't seem to be broken, but it _is_ probably badly sprained."

The blond bit her lip and nodded. "I sprained it a little a few weeks ago; it was still sore and weak."

Snow scowled. "You should have been off of it until it had fully healed."

Ella shrugged. "I was allowed to rest it for a few days."

The princess lifted her head to meet Charming's equally angry gaze.

The woman hurried out to them again, carrying the smallest of satchels, she thrust it into the prince's hands along with a small money bag. As she turned to rush back to her house Charming called her back, he stood and leisurely approached her, emptying the coins from the money bag and holding them out for the woman to see. "I think you could do better than four shillings. Don't you?"

The woman swallowed and reached into the pocket of her apron, with shaking hands she pulled out her own purse and reached inside for another shilling. When Charming didn't pull his hand back she placed another…and another…finally she upended the bag and emptied the remaining three coins into his palm. He nodded, closing his fingers over the money and dropping it into the bag for Ella. He didn't even deign to dismiss her, just turned away and went back to Snow and Ella.

He handed Snow the satchel. "I think it best that I carry you, Mistress De Barbarac."

"Ella," the young woman corrected, "and that really isn't necessary, Your Majesty, I'm sure I could – OH!" She let out a yelp as Charming swept her up in his arms and proceeded to carry her despite her protests.

Snow rolled her eyes as she stood, ignoring the slight twinge in her that wished that she was the one in Charming's arms at the moment, and moved beside him.

"Where shall we take her?" the princess inquired.

"Well," he began drolly, "since my brother has rather a large number of free rooms I thought it best to bring her to the castle, and to extend an invitation to you, and your father and stepmother, since I'm guessing they are here as well."

"They are, and that's kind of you, but it isn't necessary," she told him.

He gave her a look. "Princess, you're a royal family, my brother is in residence; by the rules of the High Court it would be considered a great insult to your family not to."

She grimaced.

"Besides, Ella cannot stay in the castle with my brother and I alone," he pointed out.

"True."

"I can find somewhere else to stay," Ella spoke up.

"Absolutely not," both royals informed her.

Snow pressed her lips together. "But I don't want us to inconvenience your brother."

"He won't mind." He added under his breath, "Especially when he finds out you're among the party."

Snow cocked an eyebrow at him; he shook his head in a gesture of, "never mind."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella's eyes darted back and forth between the pair, unsure how to really react to this prince and princess bursting in, saving her from another beating at Le Pieu's hands, getting her money for the first time in her life and a way to escape the Le Pieus. Prince James bore her along the streets as if she weighed nothing; a blush stained her cheeks at the feeling of him carrying her so effortlessly. He was a very handsome man, but she found herself strangely not attracted to the prince.

Their group strode through the gates of the palace. Ella's heart was pounding as she gazed up at the archway as it passed over her head, she swallowed thickly. During her lifetime she had watched the castle being slowly renovated, though she could just remember how it looked before, when it was still in mostly ruins. She had never passed through the gates, but her father had brought her to stand before them and stared up at the desolate beauty of it. _"Someday," he told her, "this grand old place will rise again." He looked at Ella. "Our kingdom's throne will be occupied once again."_ His prophecy was coming to pass, though he never lived to even _hear_ King George's proclamation. Oh, how her heart ached at missing her papa!

A servant stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at them as they entered, but soon seemed to shake himself out of it and scurried over to the door to open it for them.

Both royals thanked the man graciously as they passed through the doorway.

A higher ranked serving man met them in the entrance hall. "Sire, Hama said that you were taking care of a situation in the town that included the Princess of Everland?"

"That's correct, Bates," Prince James confirmed. He turned to the princess. "Snow, this is my valet, Bates. Bates, this is Princess Snow White."

The servant bowed deeply. "Your Majesty."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "It's lovely to meet you."

"And this is Ella De Barbarac," the prince continued.

"Mistress De Barbarac," the man acknowledge with a nod.

Ella was blushing as she nodded back.

"James, what's going on?"

All heads turned at the voice.

Ella's heart stuttered.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas jolted to a stop. His eyes locked with lovely cerulean ones, her face was difficult to really see well under all the soot and dirt smudging her face, but he could hardly draw a breath.

"Thomas, good."

He snapped out of it and turned to his brother. "I just spoke with Hama, what's happened?"

"Just a situation in town, I'll explain all later. Thomas, Princess Snow White. Snow, my brother Prince Thomas," James quickly introduced.

Thomas turned his attention to the princess who had so captured his elder brother's attention, he could easily see why James was attracted to her physically at least. He looked forward to learning why she had ensnared his unreachable brother so wholly.

"Your father and stepmother are here," he told her. He caught a wince flashing over her features. "I have invited you all to stay in the castle while you're in town, they accepted."

"Thank you," she smiled at him.

"And this," James looked the woman in his arms – Thomas tried to squelch the jealousy that reared its head at the sight of his brother holding her – continuing, "is Ella De Barbarac."

They young woman bowed her head, biting her lip. "Your Majesty."

"Mistress De Barbarac," he returned.

"Ella sprained her ankle in the scuffle in town, she needs a place to stay," James explained, "I took the liberty of extending an invitation for her to stay here for now."

"Of course," Thomas immediately agreed.

Bates returned from instructing the maids to prepare a room for Ella. "Shall I have one of the local staff fetch the physician?"

"Yes, thank you, Bates," James confirmed.

The valet sketched a quick, but respectful bow and headed off.

A maid approached the group, she curtseyed. "Your Majesties, the room you asked for is ready." She gestured an arm toward the stairs.

"Thank you, Sasha," Thomas acknowledged. They all turned to head up the stairs.

"Snow White!"

The princess grimaced, turning slowly to face her father and stepmother who had just walked into the entranceway.

"Where have you been? We heard that there was an incident in town, involving you." King Leopold was frowning worriedly.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, father," she said contritely. "But I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring smile.

"What happened?" he insisted.

She began to take a few small steps away. "I promise to tell you later, but right now I'm needed to help Ella here." She nodded to the young woman. "I'll come speak to you as soon as possible." She turned quickly and began to follow the maid and princes up the stairs.

Once they reached the room James lowered Ella to the bed and Snow White moved over to sit beside her.

Sasha lifted a bowl from a table with a cloth and went to join them at the bed. "I thought that you might want to clean up a bit before the physician comes. It will take longer for a bath to be drawn."

Snow smiled at her brightly, accepting the items. "Thank you, Sasha."

The maid blushed with pleasure and bobbed a curtsey before leaving.

The princess dipped the cloth into the water, she then reached out with her other hand to gently cup Ella's chin and delicately wiped her face.

"Your Majesty, you really don't have to…" Ella began.

The princess gave her a warm smile. "I am very happy to help," she assured the younger woman, continuing to clean the soot and dirt from her face. Her expression fell as she wiped at the right side of Ella's face.

Thomas's jaw clenched as a mottle of red, and blooming purple and blue was revealed under the princess's ministrations. The area was also starting to swell, encroaching on her eye. He turned his back, not wanting the young woman to see the anger he knew was in his expression, and moved over to stand beside his brother. "The man Hama brought in," he said low enough for only James to hear, "he did that to her?"

His elder brother nodded tightly.

Thomas pressed his lips into a thin line, and then headed toward the door; just before he stepped out he turned back to the bed, hands clasped behind his back. "I hope that you will be comfortable here, Mistress De Barbarac. If you need anything, please just let me know."

A blush visibly stained her cheeks, but she met his gaze. "Thank you, Your Majesty. And please, it's Ella."

The corners of his lips curled up, as a pleasant warmth spread through him. "Ella." He bowed to her and finally left.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James and Snow turned to each other, eyes coupling after observing the interaction between his brother and the young woman on the bed.

James lifted an eyebrow and both of Snow's rose in return before she turned back to tending to Ella. At the moment his anger, her temper and their argument had been set aside, but it was there, in undertones, making their interactions less humor-infused than usual.

"Thank, you," the young woman said, prompting both princess and prince to look up. "For being so kind."

Snow reached over to clasp one of Ella's hands. "It isn't necessary to thank us for doing the decent thing."

Ella looked down. "Well, it's more than anyone has done for me in over half my life."

James's jaw clenched at those words, but he forced himself to calm down. "It was an honor to be of service."

Ella blinked, blushing slightly.

He saw Snow roll her eyes from the corner of his eye; she leaned over closer to the younger woman and said in a faux confidential tone, "You know the best part? He really does mean it and he actually does speak like that."

He tilted his head to the side, leveling a look at Snow, who looked back at him with entirely false innocence.

Ella was looking back and forth between them, restrained curiosity in her expression.

The physician chose that moment to arrive; he scurried over to the bed. "I'm Jean," the older man introduced himself.

"I am Prince James." He gestured a hand to Snow. "Princess Snow White of Everland. And your patient, Ella De Barbarac."

The physician stilled from pulling out his instruments and lifted his head slowly to look at Ella, stunned. "Not Auguste's Ella..."

The blond woman's eyes went wide and she pushed herself up to sit taller. "You knew my father?"

His expression softened and became rather sad. "Very well, my child. He was one of my oldest and dearest friends. I knew you as well, but you were much too young to remember." He approached the bed, clutching his stethoscope. "My deepest condolences, for his death."

Ella's eyes cast down to her hands in her lap and she thanked him quietly.

A pregnant silence enveloped the room for a few moments before James cleared his throat.

"I'll be in the hall."

"Thank you again, Your Majesty," Ella called after him.

He tossed her a half-smile over his shoulder. "My pleasure, Mistress De Barbarac." He cast one last loaded look at Snow who met him head on, pressing her lips together, before he left the room.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella had noticed all of the looks Prince James and Princess Snow White had shared and the tension between the pair; she was burning with curiosity but held her tongue.

The princess leaned over, taking her hand. "I can stay with you through the exam, or we can call for a maid, if you prefer."

Ella's fingers tightened over the princess's. "If you really don't mind…I would like for you to stay."

Princess Snow gave her a bright smile. "Of course."

She didn't know why, but Ella instinctively trusted the princess and she felt oddly comfortable with her. With all that had happened in the last hour or so she felt like she'd just gotten off of a runaway horse and she was clinging to whatever comfort and stability she could find at the moment.

Jean first examined the bruise on her face, determining that it was a simply a bruise and would clear up with time. When he sat back he was looking at her thoughtfully. "You know, you have your mother's eyes."

"Papa always used to say that," her tone was tinged with both joy and sadness.

He gave her a bittersweet smile before standing and moving to her ankle. "Well, she was a lovely woman, Nicole, very soft spoken, but determined. She and my wife, Lillian, used to talk for hours when they were together." He ran gentle, probing fingers over the swollen joint. "Poor Auguste was never the same after Nicole died." He lifted his eyes to Ella shining with warmth. "But you were ever his joy, he always talked of you, little else interested him."

A tear slid down her cheek. "I miss him so."

Jean stood and moved back up the bed and patted her hand. "As do I, my dear." He straightened up and cleared his throat, shifting to a more professional front. "Now, that ankle is indeed sprained, so I want you to rest it, put it in cold water to help with the swelling. No getting out of bed on your own for two days at least, and after that I want you to use crutches to get around until the ankle is fully healed."

"But I couldn't possibly just stay in bed for two days –"

"No arguments!" he insisted. "You need rest, you have dark circles under your eyes from fatigue and you are much thinner than is good for you. Your body needs you to save your energy so that it can heal."

Ella wrung her hands. "But I can't take advantage of Prince Thomas's hospitality like this!"

Princess Snow leaned forward. "From what James has told me I doubt very much that Thomas will see it as an imposition. And they will both likely insist, as do I."

"Well," Jean said pleasantly, "it all seems to be arranged." He began packing the tools of his trade. "It was wonderful to see you again, Ella." He turned to her again. "After I tell her that I've seen you Lillian will likely want to visit, if you are amenable to that?"

She nodded vigorously. "I would like that very much, if it is all right with Prince Thomas; I wouldn't want to presume."

"I'm sure it will be fine," the princess assured them both.

There was a tap on the door, Jean lifted his bag and went to the door, opening it. Sasha and a second maid stood in the opening.

"The water is ready for Mistress De Barbarac's bath, if you have finished, sir," the maid told him respectfully.

"Wonderful." He turned back to Ella. "A bath will do you much good." He faced the maids once again. "I want her to stay off of her ankle so you will need to help her."

"Of course Master Jean," Sasha assured him.

He looked back at Ella. "I will be back to check on you in two days. Until then," he nodded.

"Until then," she agreed.

Several manservants began carrying in steaming buckets and kettles of water.

Princess Snow placed a hand over Ella's, drawing her attention. "I need to go, but I will come back later to check on you."

Ella nodded, she was still feeling overwhelmed by everything, but was steadier now and was sure she could handle it. "Thank you, Princess,"

The other woman tilted her head. "You can call me Snow, Ella. It's what friends call me."

The younger woman's eyes went wide. "Oh, I couldn't! It wouldn't be proper."

The princess laughed softly. "Since I'm asking I'm fairly sure that any impropriety could be blamed on me. But if it better suits your sensibilities you can call me 'Snow' when it's just the two of us."

The blond woman bit her lip but nodded. "I – I'd be honored."

The dark haired woman's eyes sparkled with humor. "Well, I will see you later, Ella."

"See you later...Snow," she said the princess's name hesitantly.

Snow smiled at her brilliantly, squeezed her hand, rose and left the room.

Once the princess had left Ella's mind caught up with the second part of Snow's original statement. She had referred to Ella as her friend… Tears burned behind her eyes at the thought of finally having a friend.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

By the time Snow stepped out into the hall, aside from the servants coming to and from the room carrying the water for Ella's bath, Charming was the only one there. Their eyes locked from the instant she exited the room, and held as they moved to stand a couple of feet apart from each other.

"I'll take you to your room," he told her.

Snow nodded, they turned and headed down the hall. She knew that the reprieve from their argument was up; the only question was where they were going to have it.

They had turned down another hall and moved a ways down it when he abruptly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a room, she didn't fight him. Once he had closed the door he pressed her against the wall and his mouth was on hers, he parted her lips and his tongue delved into her mouth.

This kiss was just as passionate as their first one, but Snow could feel a difference in it. He was angry with her, but there was also fear. She felt it in the trembling of his hands as they gripped her waist, the touch of desperation as he kissed her. She realized that this kiss was in part a release of all those emotions but also a reassurance to him. So she surrendered. She reached up, tunneling her fingers through his short hair, her own tongue dueling his. He groaned, pulling her tighter to him.

For several moments they just lost themselves, fighting for dominance of the kiss, before his hands slid up to grip her upper arms and hers down to flatten against his chest. They pushed each other away at the same time, tearing their lips apart; however he maintained his grip on her and her hands fisted in his shirt. They were both panting, trying to catch their breaths.

"Damn it, Snow," he finally ground out in a husky voice.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze.

He clenched his jaw, trying to gain control of his emotions. "I'm not a violent man by nature," he told her tightly, "but when I saw that man raise a hand to you I wanted to…" He gritted his teeth.

Snow swallowed hard at the fury in his eyes.

"Gods, Snow, I think of something happening to you and I can't _breathe_." His hands tightened infinitesimally around her arms. "Why won't you be more careful?"

She pressed her lips together, her temper snapping. She pushed at his chest; he released her, stepping back a couple of paces in the limited space of the entranceway of the room, but in some ways that just made her angrier, knowing that he could have kept her from pushing him back.

"Do you think it's any easier for me?" she snapped, fisting her hands at her sides. "I'm not blind, James," she hissed at him. "I saw you fighting those thugs, you've seen real battle, I know you have." Now she was the one shaking. "Do you think it's any easier for me, knowing that you go off to fight, and facing the possibility that one day you might not come back?" She pressed a fist to the left side of her chest. "It makes me feel like someone stabbed me through the heart."

Their eyes remained locked and they just stood there for several moments.

Finally they broke eye contact; Snow wrapped her arms around her middle, staring off to the side.

James ran both hands through his hair before scrubbing them over his face. "Gods…" He let out a frustrated breath, dropping his hands. "You were right, this _is_ insane." He looked at her watchfully. "How can we feel like this…" He shook his head slightly. "I have no right to be angry with you about your safety."

"But it _feels_ like you do," it was half-question-half-statement; she turned her gaze to his.

He nodded.

"It's the same for me," she told him quietly.

He lifted his hand, reaching toward her, but stopped and began to pull it back. Snow caught it in both of hers, keeping her eyes on him she lifted it, kissing his palm, and brought it to rest against her cheek.

A look of aching longing filled his eyes as he moved back toward her, bracing his other hand against the wall over her shoulder and lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers. He stroked his thumb tenderly across her cheek. "How can this be happening so fast?"

She caressed her fingertips over the inside of his wrist. "Does it matter?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James gave a half-hearted chuckle at her quoting his words back at him. "I thought," he said after a moment, "that giving it time and space would slow things down but…"

"It didn't," she finished for him, a wry smiled tugging at her lips. One of her hands left his and slid up to wrap around his shoulders, urging him closer.

He feathered his thumb along her jaw. "Would it alarm you to know that I've dreamed about you day and night since I left Everland?"

She didn't even bat and eyelash. "Only if hearing me say the same would you."

His hand slid to her throat, his thumb settling over her pulse. "Intense, vivid," he brushed his lips from the corner of her eye to her temple, "incredibly detailed and _very_ real dreams?"

Snow nodded, her eyes sliding shut; he felt the pace of the beat under his thumb increasing.

He drew in the scent from her hair, the familiar blend of cinnamon, chocolate and lacrimae lunaris. The memories of his dreams were running through his mind, in particular the more intimate details. Certain things that in the dreams he had known would elicit gasps and cries from her; this wasn't a dream but… He brought his hand from the wall and allowed his fingers to just barely ghost over the inside of her upper arm; she shuddered, her hand shifted to apply more pressure to his neck, pulling him closer still. Her mouth sought out the corner of his jaw, her teeth grazed the skin there before her lips pressed against it. His hand left her cheek to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him, but he lifted his head so that he could look her in the eye.

"Your father would probably kill me if he ever found out I compromised his daughter's honor like this," he commented thickly.

"He definitely would," she informed him bluntly.

James gave a half-laugh half-groan. "Don't sugarcoat it for _me_, Snow."

She gave him an impish grin, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to hers. "Wouldn't dream of it, Charming," she whispered against his lips.

He pressed his lips firmly to hers, turning the teasing touch into an actual kiss. They languidly parted their lips and kissed each other leisurely, an unhurried exploration. The flaring passion from moments earlier brought down to an easy simmer.

Her stepmother's voice coldly inquiring after Snow to a cowed servant on the other side of the door had their lips slowly parting. They pressed their foreheads together; listening to the queen speaking cuttingly before her sharp footsteps faded off and the softer padding tread of the servant disappeared.

"Your stepmother sounded quite pleased," he muttered to her.

Snow rolled her eyes and said sardonically, "Always." She gave a heavy sigh allowing her arms to slide from his neck. "I guess that this means we have to return to the real world and be responsible."

"I believe so," he reluctantly released his arms from around her waist, "since if your father or stepmother, in looking for you, happened upon us like this we would undoubtedly find out for certain if he would kill me," he confirmed wryly.

She canted her head to the side in a considering manner.

James raised an eyebrow, leveling a look at her that had her laughing softly in return.

"Only joking, Charming."

His hands had been holding her waist; he allowed his fingers to dance briefly over her sides prompting a short yelp of laughter from her. "Something you might want to take into consideration the next time you want to tease me, Princess."

Snow gave him a mock glare. "That's completely unfair, Charming."

He brought her against him again, their lips centimeters apart. "Who said I was going to play fair?" he asked in a husky voice.

He saw the hitch in her breathing; he smirked, kissing her on the tip of her nose, before releasing her entirely and opening the door. He checked the hall before stepping aside and letting Snow out first.

"I believe the saying is about payback…" she muttered to him as she brushed past him.

He smirked at her as she turned to face him, head held high and a challenging light in her eyes, in the middle of the hall. "Gods, I hope so…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Unable to sleep, Snow was curled up on the window seat in her room watching Beatrix and Benedict falling bickering-ly in love through the pages of the book in her lap. Over dinner earlier her father and the two princes had decided that while they were all in town they would sit down and at least broach a few subjects that would need to be addressed between their kingdoms with Thomas taking the throne. Snow and James would be participating as well as the future monarchs of their respective kingdoms. The discussions couldn't be considered official negotiations but at least they could have a head start for when the time really came. Once the meal had been finished Snow had excused herself and gone to check on Ella to find the young woman was already fast asleep; the princess had quietly closed the door and had continued on to her own room. The castle was now quiet; the soft chirping of the crickets and hoots of the owls drifted through her open window, a slight breeze stirring the still, warm air in her room.

She lifted her head at a knock on the door; her lips curved into a smile, knowing exactly who it was. She stood, setting her book face down on the seat and moved to the door.

Charming stood, hands braced on either side of the doorway, a half-smile on his face.

Snow kept her hand on the door, leaning against the frame, smiling brightly back at him. "Charming."

"Princess," he acknowledged, humor tingeing his voice.

She canted her head to the side. "You know, you haven't fought me on calling you 'Charming' once today."

He smirked at her. "I figure, what's the point, you're going to call me that anyway. Besides," he leaned forward slightly, bringing their faces closer together, "it's starting to grow on me."

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest. "To what do I owe the pleasure, _Charming_?"

He straightened up slightly. "I was heading down to the kitchens when I saw your light on," he gestured at her window with his chin. "I thought I'd come and see if you wanted to join me."

She bit her lip and then nodded. "Yes, thank you." She stepped aside, opening the door wider. "Come in, I'll get my shoes on." She left the door open and moved over to where she had left her slippers by her bed.

Charming slowly followed her in, leaving the door open for propriety's sake. Snow's pulse skittered and she fumbled a little in putting on the first slipper, it was very intimate, having him in her room, even though neither had any plans for something to happen between them.

He walked over to the window seat and picked up the book. "_Much Ado About Nothing_." He glanced at her over his shoulder.

Snow smiled at him. "It's my favorite of his plays," she told him, setting her now shod foot on the floor and lifting the other to cover it.

He turned it over to look at the pages it was open to. "I have heard most women say they love _Romeo and Juliet_."

Snow wrinkled her nose. "Most of them find it romantic, which I don't. The poetry of the play is romantic, but the story itself is a tragedy, not a romance. The ending, while I understand the power and message behind it, I find it a rather depressing testament to a waste of two young lives. And, personally, I prefer happy endings." She lowered her other foot and picked up her dressing gown from beside her as she stood.

He smirked. "You seem to feel quite strongly about it."

She began to slip on the robe. "I don't think that a couple of fourteen year-old children know what real love is."

"True," Charming commented thoughtfully, "Romeo does spend a good deal of time at the beginning bemoaning the loss of that other woman who was supposedly his great love and only minutes later he is professing his undying love to Juliet."

She paused in shrugging into her robe. "You read Shakespeare?"

He set the book back down. "I'm fond of most all of his comedies, like you I prefer happy endings, but I do have a liking for some of his tragedies as well." He turned back to her and, seeing her slight surprise, grinned. "Our librarian is a close, childhood friend of mine; she insisted on my being well read, at least by her standards." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Sadly I have less time to devote to reading than I used to."

Snow nodded her understanding and agreement. "There never seems to be enough hours in the day." She belted her dressing gown closed and then nodded at the door. "Shall we?"

He gave a bow, gesturing for her to go first through the door, following her out and closing the door behind them.

As they made their way to the kitchens Snow took the time to look around the halls. "So this was supposed to be your home?" She looked to him.

He nodded, glancing around as well. "Had things not…changed, I would likely have taken the throne a year ago."

She nodded thoughtfully, catching the falter in his voice when he alluded to his brother's death, but saying nothing. "Is it strange being here now that it's your brother's home-to-be?"

He shrugged. "In some ways. I spent little enough time here that it's not as much so as it might have been."

She moved closer to him so that their arms were brushing; he looked down at the point of contact, seemingly intrigued by it. He turned his hand, bringing it around hers, and, when she didn't pull away, laced their fingers together. Snow pressed her cheek briefly into his shoulder, drawing in the faint scent of leather, evergreen and horse that always seemed to cling to him. They continued this way until they reached the kitchens.

Snow glanced around the space before turning back to Charming with a raised eyebrow. "So, do you know where the hot chocolate makings are?"

He smirked, leading her over to a cabinet. "I believe we have all but the whipped cream," he informed her as they pulled out the necessary items.

She gave a put-upon sigh. "How very disappointing."

He chuckled, pulling the milk from the ice box and bringing it over to her. He leaned back against the counter beside her while she began the process of making the drinks. "Can I help?"

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Do you know anything about cooking?"

He cast her a crooked grin, humor glinting in his eyes. "Nope."

Her own lips were twitching. "Then I would say it's best that I do this myself."

He laughed softly and braced his hands on the edge of the counter behind him. "As you wish."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James remained beside her as she when through the process of heating the milk, his gaze ever on her. It was soothing, watching her go through the ritual of making the drink she was so fond of.

"See something you like, Charming?" she inquired saucily, her eyes sparkling at him.

He smirked. "What do you think?"

"I think," she stepped toward him until they were less than a foot apart and leaned her hip against the counter, bracing one hand on the surface, "that you can't take your eyes off of me," she observed.

He leaned his head down so that their faces were inches apart. "And what if I can't?" he asked huskily.

"Well," she said softly, leaning a bit closer so that their lips were only centimeters apart, "then I'd say that it's a good thing that the milk is ready." She stepped back away to the stove with a smirk.

He returned the smirk and leaned back again. "Now who's playing unfairly?"

She lifted her chin in a superior manner. "I wasn't the one who first said they weren't going to play fair," she countered.

"That's true," he admitted with a half-grin.

She handed him a mug of cinnamon laced hot cocoa, lifting her own as well. He placed his free hand at the small of her back and guided her over to the fireplace where there was still a fire, flickering low; they settled into the two chairs in front of the hearth.

Snow observed him over the rim of her mug as she blew gently on the steaming liquid. "So," she began, taking a sip of the cocoa before continuing, "what is it you wanted to talk to me about specifically?"

He swallowed a mouthful and then set the mug aside. He reached out and took nearest of her hands from around her mug in both of his. "There's something I want to tell you about, that I believe you should know and I don't want you to hear from another source." His eyes lifted to hers. "I don't want any misunderstandings between us."

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him watchfully; she set her mug in her lap, hand still steady on the handle. "That sounds almost ominous," there was a thread of teasing in her tone, but he could tell that she was taking it seriously.

James traced the lines of her palm. "A few months ago, over half a year, King Midas approached my father and I. He had heard that I was a skilled fighter and wanted me to kill a dragon that was plaguing his lands in exchange for gold. I agreed and managed to complete the task." He skimmed the tips of his fingers over her knuckles. "When Father and I came before Midas to exchange the dragon's head for the gold Midas threw something else in." He twined her fingers with his, not wanting her to pull away from him at the news he was about to give her. "He wished to arrange a marriage between his daughter Abigail and I."

"_Princess Abigail_?" she suddenly burst in, bringing his head up at her outburst. "That nag with a bad attitude?"

He was surprised to hear his own unvoiced thoughts about the blond princess echoed perfectly back at him. "You know her?"

Snow grimaced. "Unfortunately, but I'll explain later. What were you saying about Midas wanting to trap you forever with his annoying daughter?"

He smirked at her characteristic sharp tongue. "He was willing to give us a year to 'consider' the possibility of entering into an engagement." He pressed his lips together. "Which translates to I either propose to Abigail within what's left of the year or I propose to another woman, and the only possible chance of that _not_ starting a war is if the woman I choose would bring greater material gain and or power to my kingdom."

He felt her go still.

"And I'm the only one that fits that bill…" she murmured.

When she began to pull her hand away he tightened both of his around it. "But none of that is why I'm pursuing you, Snow." He lifted his eyes to hers; he saw her breath catch.

"Then why _are_ you pursing me?" she asked softly.

James lifted her hand to kiss each fingertip, his eyes gazing into hers. "I'm pursuing you for myself. I'm pursuing you because even if I was given the choice of any woman in the world I would always choose you."

Her chest was rising and falling quickly. "James," she breathed.

He brought her hand to rest over his heart. "When I first traveled to your kingdom, I had expected that at most you and I might manage to be friends. I fully expected to have to marry Abigail, to preserve peace for my kingdom." One corner of his lips lifted. "Then this beautiful, bewitching young woman hit me with a rock." Snow grinned at that. "I had no idea who you were but I knew I had to find you." He was grinning now. "And then you were the one to find me I suppose."

She slipped her hand from his and brought it up to trace the scar on his chin with her fingertips. "Let's just say we found each other."

He brought one of his hands up to cover hers. "That's fine with me."

They looked at each other for several moments before Snow leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a brief, chaste kiss. She pulled away and skimmed her fingers up to his furrowed brow, smoothing them over it. "Stop worrying, Charming," she soothed, "I'm not going anywhere."

Relief washed over him as he leaned into her touch. He pressed his forehead to hers and after a few moments asked, "So, how do you know Abigail?"

She sighed sitting back. "You sure know how to kill a mood, Charming."

He chuckled softly, picking his mug up once again and taking a drink.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow sipped her hot chocolate. "When my mother was alive I used to attend the High Court functions with my parents. When I first started attending Princess Abigail was one of the only princesses near my age, so it was expected that we would play together." She grimaced. "That lasted about as long as it took for her to end up falling in a pile of horse manure."

"Entirely by accident of course," Charming teasingly interjected.

Her eyes danced with laughter. "Entirely." She continued, "After that I decided that I wanted to play with the princes."

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, before his expression cleared and became rueful. "I…uh…I remember you," he chuckled.

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Mm hmm," he nodded, looking down at her mug with a smirk. "I remember this spunky, little dark-haired princess marched up to myself and the other princes, and insisted on playing with us. One prince stepped forward and told her she couldn't because she was 'a girl'." Snow's eyes slid closed as memory dawned on her expression. "She retorted that she was a 'woman' and pushed him into a mud puddle."

Snow rubbed a hand along the side of her face. "You – uh – were there for that?" She glanced up at him.

"Oh, yes." He gave her a rueful half smile. "I was the prince whom you pushed into the mud."

Her jaw dropped. "Oh my…" She slapped a hand across her forehead. "_James_!" She let her hand fall to her side. "I never made the connection," she looked at him wonderingly. "I'm so thick."

"No, more than I," he assured her. "I was older than you when you stopped coming to court and I didn't remember it either."

She smirked at him. "Well, you _did_ deserve it, when I pushed you in the mud, for what you said." She lifted her mug and took a sip.

"True," James agreed, grinning, "though I got you back anyway." He smirked. "If you remember I pulled you into the puddle a moment later."

She just barely managed to swallow the sip before she laughed. "Yes, you did and we got into quite the mud-throwing fight." She lifted her chin proudly. "But after that you and the other princes never questioned my right to play with you again. Though, we did get in trouble with our parents once they saw the two of us covered in mud."

"That we did."

She looked at him consideringly. "I thought for sure you were going to rat me out, but you just told them that we accidentally fell in the puddle." Just like he had covered for her about being attacked on the road.

He gave her a half-grin. "I had finally found my partner-in-crime; I couldn't have left her hanging, now could I?"

An answering grin spread across her face. "No…you never have."

Later, after Charming had escorted her to her room and then gone to his own, Snow went back over to the window seat. She drew her feet up under her, folding her arms atop the window ledge and resting her chin on them, staring out the window into the starry night. She wondered if Charming remembered the last time they saw each other as children, if he recalled his promise to her…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_James!"_

_The prince spun at the tear-filled voice of his best friend who came running into the room. A fury at whoever had caused the little princess to cry rose in him; he rushed to her and hugged her tightly. "What's wrong, Snow?"_

_She had buried her face in his chest and looked up at him tearfully. "Father says we're leaving!"_

"_When?"_

"_As soon as our things are packed." Tears continued to fall down her face. "Father said that we shouldn't've come. That we weren't ready to return to Court."_

_James frowned. "But you'll be back next time."_

"_I-I don't know." Her lip trembled. "It didn't sound like Father wants us to come back for a _long time_." Another tear slid down her cheek. "James, what if we don't come back _ever_?"_

"_Then I'll find you," he stated firmly._

"_Do you promise?" Her eyes searched his, to reassure herself that he spoke the truth._

"_Even if I have to wait until I'm grown up, I'll come and find you. And we'll go on adventures together, because we'll be old enough no one can tell us not to."_

_She gave him a shaky smile. "But we've gotta get married someday and we can't just run off together on adventures, 'cause I don't think the people we marry'll like that."_

"_We'll get married to each other," he told her decisively, hugging her tighter. "Then no one can tell us we can't."_

_She gave a teary laugh, tightening her hold around his middle as well. "Ok."_

_James stood beside his mother, watching Snow climb into the carriage after her father; once inside she stuck her head out the window, staring back at him. As the carriage took off he ran after it calling, "I'll find you, Snow! I promise!"_

_She waved forlornly at him, a tear streaking its way down her face._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James was leaning against the door frame to his balcony, staring through the open door to the light still glowing in Snow's window; he could make out her head resting on the window ledge. He hadn't bothered to light any candles in his room when he came in, thinking that he was going straight to bed, so the room behind him was dark. However, when sleep wasn't forthcoming he had gone to the balcony.

Childhood memories had washed over him. Years of boring High Court functions, most of them just a blur of the sameness, but a few years stood out, with a little dark-haired princess's sparkling eyes and mischievous grin being at the center of them all. Time and the distraction of obligations had pushed the memories of the girl who had been his best friend to the far corners of his mind, but now here they were, fresh and clear as if they had occurred yesterday. He had kept his promise to find her, though it had taken longer than he had imagined at the time and had certainly come about in a way he would have never expected.

The silhouetted form in the window stirred and rose, moving out of sight; a few moments later the light was extinguished.

James pressed a hand to where his mother's ring hung around his neck, he wondered if Snow remembered _all_ of his promises from that day…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The part where Snow says: . _"I don't think that a couple of fourteen year-old children know what real love is."_ Is intended to be in part a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor, considering the fact that in most of the original fairy tales these characters were around that age, maybe a couple of years older, or in some cases younger; I'm going by the ages that they are in OUaT.

Thank you for reading! I hope that you guys liked it! I'll try to get started on the next chapter as soon as possible; we'll be seeing more of Ella, Thomas, Snow and Charming. Please let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 7: Snag

I can never ever thank you all enough for the reviews, alerts and faves! Truly you make my day and keep me writing! For anyone who is interested I'm now on twitter; you can find me under KayleePete and if you choose you can bug me about writing more or send encouragement my way or if you just want to talk about OUaT or stories. I may also post on twitter little spoilers for my stories if you're interested. Anywho. This chapter was a real rollercoaster to write, so hang on.

Thank you so much to **Happy Endings for All** for beta-ing!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 7: Snag**

A soft tapping had Ella frowning and rolling over in her still mostly-asleep state, thinking that it was just a branch hitting the window in the wind. A soft voice gently calling, "Ella?" dispelled any such illusion. It was so unlike the harsh screeching of her stepmother and stepsisters that she was expecting that she jerked herself upright in bed, wide awake. She looked around the room, finding herself in one larger than she'd ever stepped foot in. She was lying in the largest canopy bed she'd ever seen with the softest linens she ever felt. She wore a nightgown of pure white, finer than she'd ever owned. After a moment everything from the day before came rushing back, but even with the proof around her she still felt that it _must_ be a dream; she reached over and pinched her own arm. Nope, not a dream.

"Ella, dear, are you awake?" Princess Snow's soft voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Yes," the young woman finally managed to respond, "come in!"

The door opened to reveal the princess carrying a tray of food; she smiled brightly. "Good morning." She bumped the door with her hip, sending it closed. "I brought you some breakfast."

Ella pushed herself up in bed as the other woman came over. "Thank you, Your Majesty, you didn't have to."

The princess gave her a chiding look as she settled down on the bed next to her. "I told you, Ella, you can call me Snow." She reached over to help adjust the pillows behind the younger woman so that she could sit upright against the headboard.

"Snow," Ella softly repeated, watching the dark-haired woman beside her.

Snow set the tray in Ella's lap. "I was awake and had eaten already, so I volunteered to bring your breakfast to you."

"Thank you."

The princess, seeming to notice the expression on Ella's face, canted her head to the side. "What is it?"

"I think I'm just still a bit overwhelmed by all of this." She looked down where she was rubbing the fabric of her nightgown between two fingers. "I mean, just yesterday I was in rags and sleeping on the hearth of the Le Pieu's kitchen. And now… I have never worn clothing of such fine linen." She held up some of the fabric in emphasis. "And I'm here…" she gestured around the grand room.

Compassion reflected in the dark-haired woman's eyes. "Life has not been easy on you, has it?"

"I don't want pity," Ella said quickly, but made sure to keep her voice respectful.

"And I'm not offering it," Snow countered gently. "Sympathy and empathy aren't the same thing as pity. I don't offer friendship and equality to people I pity."

The blond woman was stunned. The princess's off-hand comment yesterday about them being, or at least becoming, friends was one thing but to have it put point-blank like that, and having her say that she looked on Ella as an equal was jolting. "You're…"

"I'm what?" Snow inquired.

Ella bit her lip. "I-I don't mean to offend you, but you're not anything like I expected royalty to be like."

The princess gave a lyrical laugh; her eyes sparkled with mirth as she asked, "And what _did_ you expect?"

"I – I guess more…distant o-or…I don't know…not so…" she stumbled over her words.

Snow raised an amused eyebrow. "Honesty is the better part of valor, Ella. You won't upset me with whatever you have to say."

The younger woman's face burned, but she took a deep breath and attempted to set aside all of the social strictures that the princess seemed quite content to ignore. "I suppose…refined."

The princess grinned. "Oh I can be refined…when I choose to, but please, continue."

"Maybe not so, down-to-earth – normal, I guess."

Laughter bubbled again. "The only difference between you and I, Ella, is I was born to a ruling family and raised in a castle." She held out her hand, palm-up, for the other woman to see. "I'm flesh-and-blood, just like you."

Ella stared at the older woman, wide-eyed.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Snow called.

"It's James; Thomas is with me along with a visitor for Ella."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"One moment!" Snow called, rising from the bed and moving to the foot of it where a chest sat. She picked up a shawl that had been draped over the lid, absently recognizing Geppetto's work in the carvings on the chest; she had seen many of his creations in the castle. She went back to Ella and helped her wrap the material around the younger woman's shoulders for modesty. Once they were both satisfied that she was sufficiently covered for male company the princess once more called out, "Come in."

The two princes came in followed closely by an anxious looking middle-aged woman.

Snow noted how Ella's eyes lit up at the sight of Thomas and his own lips curved into a grin upon seeing her. Her eyes met Charming's, who had also seen the pair's reactions. He coughed discreetly into the back of his hand and Snow looked down, biting on her lips to keep from grinning. The elder prince stepped aside, allowing his brother to take the lead.

Thomas moved to stand beside the bed. "How are you doing, Mistress De Barbarac?"

"Ella," she corrected softly. "And very well, Your Majesty."

"Thomas, please," he countered.

Snow gave a strangled sound and quickly turned what had nearly been a giggle into a cough; Charming smirked at her, his own shoulders shaking silently.

Ella's eyes turned to Snow, who just grinned at her.

Thomas looked back and forth between the two. "Am I missing something?"

The dark-haired princess cleared her throat. "Just before you came in I was shocking Ella with my completely scandalous ideas of equality and such."

Charming threw back his head laughing. Thomas looked back and forth between this brother and the princess with a raised eyebrow.

"We'll visit Everland, someday, Little Brother, and you'll understand," the elder prince assured him.

Thomas cleared his throat. "Right." He stepped aside, gesturing the woman with them forward. "Princess Snow White, Mistress Lillian." The women exchanged the appropriate greetings. "Ella, Mistress Lillian, Master Jean's wife."

The woman was clutching a bag to her chest and a tremulous smile was on her lips. "Hello, Ella," her voice shook severely with the emotions that were clearly overwhelming her.

"Mistress Lillian," the blond woman nodded, biting her lip.

"Oh," the older woman all-but-ran forward, clasping Ella's hand, "please, call me Lillian." She sounded close to tears.

"Lillian." Ella nodded.

Tears glistened in Lillian's eyes. "Oh, you look so much like your mother…and your father."

"Thank you," the younger woman murmured, blushing with pleasure.

Out of the corner of her eye Snow noticed the two brothers moving to the door; just before he stepped out Charming met her gaze and tilted his head to the hallway. She nodded.

The princess stood. "I have to go get ready for the talks today." She flashed the other two women a warm smile. "I'll leave the two of you to get better acquainted."

Ella reached up to squeeze her hand. "Thank you."

Snow responded in kind. She lifted her gaze to the physician's wife. "It was lovely to meet you, Mistress Lillian."

"And you, Your Majesty." The woman curtseyed.

Snow left without further fuss, closing the door behind her. Once out in the hall she looked to the left.

"Snow."

She turned to the right at Charming's voice to see him standing at a room, holding the door open. She went over and entered the room; he closed the door behind them both.

Inside, already seated at a small table were Thomas and Jean. Charming placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her over to be seated across from the other two.

Snow turned to Charming expectantly.

"Yesterday, before he left, Thomas and I asked Jean to find out what he could of the De Barbarac family and lands and return as soon as possible to inform us," he explained.

"It didn't take long, Your Majesties," the physician said, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Tell us what you know of the family before the death of Master De Barbarac," Thomas instructed.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You will not find a soul who can speak out against August De Barbarac," Jean began. "He was a good man, who loved his wife and child and treated those who worked for him well. He was a shrewd businessman, but fair in his dealings. He was wise enough that when it came to farming his lands he turned to those who were more knowledgeable than he; his lands, during his lifetime, were fruitful." He let out a weary sigh. "Unfortunately he was not so wise in choosing his second bride, Baroness De Ghent." He looked down at his hands. "While he lived the business and farm thrived, so the Baroness's spendthrift ways were not that noticeable. After his death however…" His lips pressed into a thin line.

"How bad is it?" James inquired.

The older man rubbed a hand over his face. "She has run that farm and the business into the ground. Burned through the money faster than it comes in. She either let off or ran off all but a skeleton staff, and those who remain only do so out of loyalty to Auguste's memory and Ella herself."

Snow frowned. "Ella must be of age, why hasn't she been given her inheritance?"

Jean turned to her with a grim look. "Because, my lady, Auguste left no will."

James's eyes slid shut in realization.

"But as his birth daughter she should still inherit at least a portion of his property and or wealth, what's left of it."

The physician shook his head. "There is no such provision in our laws."

She went still. "Pardon?"

He took a deep breath. "According to the laws of Riverdon, if a man leaves no will all of his holdings will pass to his first-born son, if there isn't one it goes to his wife and finally if there is neither they will pass to the first-born daughter." Jean gave the horrified princess a sympathetic look. "Ella has no legal claim to any of August's property until the death of her stepmother, at which time, [I]_if[/I]_ there is anything left, it _will_ revert to her. Until then her stepmother has no actual legal responsibility to her."

"What a positively…archaic…chauvinistic law!" she spat out. She spun to James. "Your family _allows_ such a law to persist?"

He grimaced. "In Seaborn we changed those laws generations ago," he assured her. "However, by the terms of the annex, the Seaborn crown has the authority to enforce the laws of Riverdon, but _not_ the power to change them. That right belongs only to the ruler of Riverdon." He clasped his hands on the table. "The intention had been to have a second-born child take the throne. But my family has had difficulty for generations having more than one child, and the scarce occasion when they did, it was exceedingly rare that more than one made it to adulthood. My brothers and I were the first generation since the annex that it had been managed."

Thomas picked up from there. "The result is that many laws of this kingdom are _severely_ outdated." He clenched his jaw. "And the frustrating part is that even if I were to take the throne and change the law tomorrow I could do nothing for Ella's situation because her stepmother's inheritance of the land would be considered grandfathered in."

Snow looked between them all. "Is there no way around it?"

"Not unless she's broken a law." James turned to Jean, hoping for perhaps some good news there.

The older man shook his head. "I asked anyone I could and even from the Barbarac staff the answer is no." He sighed. "The woman may be morally and ethically wrong, but she isn't legally."

"Which means that there is no way to bypass her." Thomas looked down, shaking his head.

"We _can't_ let Ella go back to that place," Snow said fiercely. James had noted how quickly she had become attached to the young woman.

"Your Majesty," Jean began grimly, "had any of us who were Auguste's friends known how she was treated she would never have been forced to remain in the first place. We would have gladly taken her in."

"Why didn't you?" Thomas inquired.

"The Baroness pulled away from us all because we weren't of nobility and on the rare occasion when she even deigned to answer our queries about Ella she told us she was at a school." He gestured in the direction of Ella's room. "I hardly recognized her as it was."

"Looking back isn't going to do us any good at this point." James leaned forward on his elbows. "We need to figure out what options are open to her at this point so that she can make a decision as to her future."

"Lillian and I would be glad to have her stay with us, but we gave our son and daughter-in-law our house and moved into the apartment above my clinic; we have not the room." Jean helplessly spread his hands, palms-up.

"She could stay here," Thomas put in.

"That wouldn't be appropriate," Snow pointed out. "Unless she were to start working for you."

Thomas grimaced. "The castle and grounds are over-staffed as it is."

"Are there any positions open around town?" James questioned the physician.

"I can ask, but I would think it actually better if Ella could get away from Riverdon, or at least the town center, until the Baroness has returned and all of this has blown over."

Out of the corner of his eye, James noticed Snow pressing a fist to her lips thoughtfully, while he narrowed his eyes at the older man. "Why so?"

"The Baroness will undoubtedly make as much trouble for Ella as possible once she finds out that Ella has left Barbarac."

"Do you think she would accept a position in another kingdom?" Snow suddenly asked, drawing all three men's gazes.

James lifted an eyebrow. "You have something in mind?"

She tapped a finger on the table top consideringly. "I know of at least one position in my own kingdom that would be available to her should she wish it." She leaned forward. "She could even come and visit for a few days, to see if she wants to accept the job. If she decides no then at least she'll have been able to get away for a while and will be properly recuperated."

They all exchanged glances.

"It's an option she should at least be given," James pointed out.

"Mm…" Jean nodded. "I can still ask about openings in town so that she has others as well."

Snow turned to Thomas, who looked at her levelly. "What is this job?"

She folded her hands together atop the table. "Some friends of mine are in dire need of a maid. They have a small cabin behind their house that she would be given as her home. It isn't an easy job, but they will never overtax her. They will treat her with kindness and respect, be unfailingly fair and likely become quite protective of her."

"She will be protected there?"

"She will not only have their protection, but mine and my friendship," Snow promised.

James looked at his brother with raised eyebrows. What she had just offered was probably the greatest gift a royal could give to an outsider in their kingdom. The specific protection of their crown and, even more so, the right to call the royal "friend" would all but guarantee the safety of the individual; anyone who thought to harm them would have _much_ to contend with.

His younger brother slowly nodded. "All right." His eyes turned to Jean. "Could you compile a list of possible positions by tomorrow?"

"Yes, You Majesty."

The younger prince nodded. "Good, we can tell her about them all tomorrow. See what happens from there."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The talks had broken for lunch. Leopold stood at a window overlooking the gardens, watching his daughter wandering the gravel pathways; she stopped and turned, apparently hearing her name called. He couldn't see her expression, but as Prince James came into sight and approached her, he could imagine how her face lit up. He hadn't failed to notice the interest his daughter had begun to show in the prince, which the young man returned. He had been shocked when his daughter, who had never shown _any_ interest in men beyond her friendships with Gaspard and Eric, was suddenly _intensely_ interested in the heir of Seaborn. The reason he had agreed to the visit in spring was because his wife had been so insistent; even though Snow had never had any intention of getting married he had thought that at least they could strengthen the ties between their kingdoms through the visit. When his daughter and James had begun to spend more time together he had been wary of the situation on his daughter's behalf. Then he had heard about the engagement that Midas wanted to arrange between the Seaborn prince and his daughter, Abigail.

James had threaded Snow's hand over his arm and the pair was walking companionably to the fountain. The princess laughed at something that the prince said and he leaned in closer to her.

Leopold pressed his lips into a thin line.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You know," Charming remarked and they sat on the edge of the fountain, "you haven't told me what you've been doing since we last saw each other."

She brushed a wrinkle in her skirt. "Mostly just the usual day-to-day, though I've been helping out at the dwarfs' home more often lately." She laughed softly. "I usually drag Red along to help with the chores. And Father has been having me come to meetings and such more often." She grinned up at him. "I _did_ get to spend a couple of days with some friends," there was a sparkle of humor in her eyes, "one of them being a cousin of yours."

His brow furrowed. "Cousin?"

"Prince Eric of Seaside."

"Ah." Comprehension dawned on his face. He canted his head to the side. "I hadn't realized that you two knew each other."

"I met him through King Gaspard of Rosewood and Princess Aurora of Glenbriar. We've all been friends since childhood."

Charming cocked an eyebrow. "You're friends with Princess Aurora?"

"Mm hmm." She nodded, humor dancing in her eyes. "And I understand that you're friends with Prince Phillip of Lochlomond."

He smirked ruefully. "Indeed. Though you also knew him when we were children, if I remember correctly."

A scowl crossed her face. "Yes, he teased Aurora and I mercilessly when we were at Court." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes locked with his. "I also recall that the last time I attended Court he was bullying me because I'd been crying and you punched him. Gave him a black eye."

He gazed at her levelly. "He didn't have a right to do that to you. You'd lost your mother and were mourning her."

She slid her hand into his, smiling at him. "Prince Charming living up to his name," she said teasingly.

He gave her a grin that certainly lived up to the nickname. "I do have a reputation to uphold."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Of course."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James lifted her hand to study their intertwined fingers. "I haven't seen Eric in a couple of years. How is my cousin?"

"Good."

He raised an eyebrow. "Snow, if you feel the need to lie, why answer at all?"

She let out a breath in a soft whoosh. "It's not really a lie, he's _mostly_ good."

Worry was visible on her face to his eyes. "And the part that isn't good?"

There was a wry twist to her lips. "I can't tell you. It's a confidence that I don't feel I can share, at least not without Eric's permission."

He nodded slowly. "I can respect that."

"So," her head canted curiously to the side, "on the topic of old friends, has Phillip grown up at all?" Doubt and humor were thick in her tone.

An amused shake of the head and smirk, were his answer.

She rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought."

A chuckle rumbled out of James's chest. "He's not pulling the braids of smaller girls anymore," he joked. "But he can still act closer to the age of twelve at times."

"Well," her chin propped on his shoulder, their noses nearly touching, "only one of you can be Prince Charming."

He tilted his head the slightest amount, letting his nose rub against hers. "As long as I'm the one you call that."

Her eyes sparkled. "That's the plan," she told him softly, "isn't it?" She bit her lip, a touch of an uncharacteristic vulnerability in her voice and eyes with the last part.

He stared into her eyes, knowing exactly what she was asking. "Yeah." His voice was thick to his own ears. "That's the plan."

"Do you promise?" It was barely a whisper.

He wanted to kiss her in that moment and remove any doubt that might exist in her mind as to his feelings for her, but they were risking enough censure sitting so intimately. Lifting her hand to his lips he settled for kissing the back of it. "I do."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella gently paged through the drawings, watercolors and letters Lillian had left with her. Most of the artwork her mother had made, but there were a couple that Lillian herself had done of Nicole and Auguste. Ella could barely remember her father's face any more and had no memory of her mother; these images were perhaps the ones she treasured most of all the things the older woman had given her. The letters were mostly just normal, everyday correspondence between Lillian and Nicole, just the mundane talk of two friends, but through them Ella was able to learn more about her mother as a person. Nicole De Lencret had a gentle sense of humor with a lyrical way of writing that was almost like poetry; even as she wrote of just daily life, how she had enjoyed her quiet life at Barbarac was blindingly obvious. The letter after she first met Auguste De Barbarac was colored with her already blossoming love for him. Her words upon discovering she was pregnant glowed with uncontainable joy, bringing tears to Ella's eyes at knowing how loved she'd been by her mother.

A quiet knock had her hastily dabbing away tears. "Who is it?"

"It's Thomas, may I come in?"

Her heart leapt at his voice, as it had a habit of doing anytime she saw or heard him, but she hesitated, it wasn't proper for her to have a man in her room without a chaperone.

"I'll leave the door open," he continued, apparently understanding the reason for her hesitance, "I just have something for you."

She looked down at her shawl and began to wrap it higher around her neck. "Come in."

When the door opened their eyes locked and he froze at the entrance, Ella's breath caught in her chest. This moment, the two of them, their eyes connected, was so breathtakingly familiar.

Thomas shook himself. "Umm…" As promised the door remained open while he haltingly moved to her bedside.

Ella took a couple of breaths, trying to slow her heartbeat.

He held up a small stack of books in his hand. "The book collection is severely depleted, though the librarian from Seaborn is working to remedy that, but I thought that you might like something to read, even as slim as the pickings are."

A glow warmed her heart at the gesture. "Thank you." Her hands shook slightly as she accepted the books.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I took the liberty to bring a selection." Settling on the edge of the bed he showed them each to her. "Snow made a few suggestions, including a couple of Shakespeare's plays."

She turned the volumes in her hands. "_Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _The Tempest_." Her eyes lifted to his, her face alight. "My papa used to read these to me."

Thomas's lips slid into an answering grin and he handed her the next. "This is a collection of poems that I enjoy."

She flipped through a few pages letting her fingers skim over some of the words.

"And this," he placed the fourth on the blanket with a somewhat sheepish smile, "is a collection of myths, legends and folk tales."

A giggle bubbled from her; he joined her with a rueful laugh.

"I know, it's childish –"

"No!" she was quick to counter him, unthinkingly placing her hand over his, to prevent him from pulling the book away.

He stilled under her touch.

Her teeth bit her lip, warmth infusing her cheeks. After a moment she shifted her grasp to the book and pulled it toward her. "It has been a long time since I've gotten to read these stories. I would like to again." A shy smile lifted the corners of her lips. "Thank you."

The grin he gave her in return had her heart tripping in her chest.

"You're welcome."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"I have a question." Snow curled her feet up under her on the chair; her chin propped in the palm of one hand, elbow on the arm of the chair, and her hot cocoa cradled in her lap with her other.

Charming's legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles and propped up on a stool across from him. They had again retreated for a late-night mug of hot chocolate in the kitchens as they were wont to do.

One eyebrow rose. "What would that be?"

"Earlier, when we were discussing Ella's options, you mentioned that your family hadn't had more than one child survive to adulthood until you and Thomas since the annex."

"Mm." He nodded, sipping his cocoa.

A thoughtful frown creased her expression. "But your great-grandfather and Eric's great-grandfather were brothers and they both survived to adulthood." She lifted her mug for a sip. "I thought that the annex pre-dated them."

"It does," he acknowledged. "But he was not eligible to become king of Riverdon."

Her eyebrows rose on her forehead.

He let his feet drop to the floor and leaned forward to set his mug on the floor. "Our great-great-grandfather married a woman who was heir to the throne of another kingdom, Dellaford, and as part of the marriage-deal if they had more than one child one of them was to become ruler of her kingdom."

"Oh…" Snow nodded, understanding dawning. "That's how your family became connected to Dellaford kingdom."

"Yes." He sat back again. "And when Eric's grandparents had a second child they decided to create a second kingdom for Eric's father."

"Heavens," she muttered amusedly, clasping her mug between her hands, "all of these other kingdoms and their interconnections make mine look rather simple, really." There was a teasing light in her eyes.

He gave her a half-smile. "Well, as you've pointed out before, your family has been content to intermingle the royal bloodline freely with just about anyone from any level of society. You rarely look outside your own boarders, and never that far."

She cocked one of her eyebrows wryly. "You make us sound almost in-bred."

The smile became a smirk. "Which we both know is a thought without merit. Your family has probably been even better about avoiding that than many that marry into other royal lines, because you're so willing to marry outside our ilk."

Her eyes narrowed teasingly. "How very diplomatically recovered."

His head fell back with a rich laugh prompting her own laughter to bubble out.

She set down her mug and dropped her feet momentarily to the floor so that she could scoot her chair next to his. This done she brought her feet back up under her and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. His arm curved naturally around her, his nose burying in her hair.

The fingers of her free hand softly trailed up and down the arm he had wrapped around her. "After dinner, Father was talking about us leaving the day after tomorrow."

His hand caught hers on a down sweep of her fingers, tangling the digits together. "We knew it was going to happen." Though he seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as her.

"I know," she sighed, turning her head slightly so that she could breathe his scent in deeply. "I'm just selfish enough to wonder when we're going to see each other again."

His finger under her chin lifted her face, their eyes meeting.

His thumb ran tantalizingly over her bottom lip. "If I have my way, soon."

Keeping her eyes locked with his, Snow shifted her face slightly and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James couldn't look away. It was a bad idea, letting this go on, but he couldn't tear himself away.

Snow rose in her seat toward him; he met her half-way.

Their lips just brushed at first, but then he slanted his mouth over hers parting his lips to meet her eager kiss. One of her hands curved around the back of his neck; her nails scraped over the skin gently, sensually.

The rational part of his mind was entirely drowned out by everything else in him.

His hands closed over her waist, all but lifting her out of her own chair and pulling her willing form to straddle his lap. The white fabric of her nightgown and dressing robe pooled around her legs and in his lap; even though there was much of the material, it was thin and very little stood between his calloused hands and her soft skin.

Her hands trailed down his chest and then back up again, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the other hand rested against his collarbone, her thumb brushed against the hollow of his throat, bared from the open tie, drawing a moan from him. His own thumb ran along her hip and his other hand slid to her back where his fingers caressed up her spine; she gasped. His lips skimmed across her cheek to the side of her neck, which she arched, giving him full access to the smooth skin. Her hand slid from his shoulder to tunnel her fingers through his hair and gently tug on the strands.

The latch on the door clanked open.

Snow scrambled away from him, moving over to where their mugs were and bending to collect them, letting her hair curtain her face. James leaned forward in the chair, bracing his arms on his knees and trying to stifle a grimace before turning to see who came into the room.

Thomas stepped around the door and paused at seeing them.

"Little brother," James greeted him.

The younger man's eyes flicked back and forth between his brother and the princess. "I didn't know that anyone was down here." He let the door close.

Snow cast him a convincingly innocent smile as she moved over to the sink. "We were just having some hot chocolate and talking." She nodded her head at the stove as she dunked the cups into the water. "There's still some warm milk left in the pot if you'd like some."

"Thank you."

A pregnant silence enveloped the room while Snow rinsed the mugs and Thomas made his drink. James was gritting his teeth, trying to get control of his reaction to his and Snow's…activities.

Once she had set the dishes to dry beside the sink, the princess turned to the brothers. "Well, I'm going to head up to my room. See you both in the morning."

Thomas nodded to her bidding her a good night.

James wanted to escort her to her room, but there was no way he was standing up at the moment with his brother around. "Good night, Snow."

A soft smile lifted her lips. "Good night, James." Her slight form slipped out the door.

The brothers continued in silence until Thomas had made his cocoa and was heading for the door. "James?"

"Hmm?" His head turned slightly.

"I'm not sure what I almost walked in on, but whatever it was," he cocked a wry eyebrow, "could you never again do it in my kitchens?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The next morning, as the sun was just cresting the horizon and James was dressing, there was a knock on his door.

"Father sent this." Thomas leveled the letter at his chest the moment his brother opened the door.

The older man raised an eyebrow at him, accepting the missive and stepping back to let him in. "When did it come in?"

Thomas closed the door behind him. "Just a few minutes ago."

James broke the seal and unfolded the parchment; once he had finished reading the contents he grimaced.

"What is it?"

The elder prince handed the letter to his brother. "Father wants me to attend some talks in Agrabah."

"When do you have to leave?" Thomas's eyes scanned down the words.

"Just after lunch at the latest." He accepted the missive back from his brother once he was finished. "I'll be staying there until the High Court gala Sultan is holding."

"Fun," was his brother's wry comment. Thomas watched his elder brother move to stare out the open doors of the balcony. "Do you want me to have the servants come up to pack for you?"

"Please," was the absent response. "I have some things to do." James's hand rose to press against a spot on his chest.

Thomas raised an eyebrow at the odd gesture, but shrugged it off. "I'll send the servants up. Jean's already here and if he says that it's all right, Ella will be joining us for breakfast, so we may be able to tell her about the positions in town and Everland."

"Right." An equally absent nod.

Eyes narrowed Thomas studied his brother. He opened his mouth to ask him what was going on, but after a moment he recognized the look in James's eyes and knew that he wouldn't be getting a straight answer at that moment. So, he shook his head and moved to the door. "We'll be waiting downstairs."

"See you there."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Are you sure?"

Snow laughed at the repetitious question from the anxious woman. "I'm positive," she assured Ella.

The younger woman ran her hands over the sky blue material of the dress. "It's just so nice. Are you really sure you want to give it so _me_?" She looked over her shoulder at Snow who had volunteered to act as waiting maid to help her dress for breakfast.

The princess raised a pair of teasing eyebrows. "Keep asking me that and I'll start thinking you don't like it."

"No!" Ella quickly assured her. "I _love_ it."

"Well, good." Snow did up the last clasp. "I've never worn it – I have no idea why my stepmother thought this color would look good on me or why she insisted I bring it, but it's the perfect shade for you." She smoothed her hands over the blond woman's shoulders and helped her turn to face the mirror. "There."

Ella gasped. "Oh, Snow!"

The dark haired woman giggled softly. "I'll take that as approval."

The younger woman brushed her fingers over a blond curl by her face. "That's really me…"

"It is," Snow confirmed. She watched Ella take in her greatly altered reflection with wonder; her heart ached for how miserable her new friend's life must have been. Things still weren't looking easy either…

Master Jean's search for open positions in town had been more or less fruitless. Snow had spoken with her father the night before about the possibility of Ella returning to Everland with them to meet the dwarves and see if she would like to work for them; he had agreed to it. This morning when she spoke to Jean and he had told her about his lack of success he recommended that Snow speak with Ella in private about the job.

The princess bit her lip, debating how to begin. "Ella."

The younger woman turned to look at her. "What is it?"

"There's…something I want to discuss with you. Would you like to sit for a moment?"

Ella nodded and with the aid of the crutch she had been leaning on and Snow's arm they made it over to a pair of chairs and settled in.

Snow took a deep breath. "James, Thomas and I spoke with Jean, who explained your situation to us. How your stepmother has control of your family's lands, and the way the laws work here."

The blonde's eyes dropped to the floor. "Oh."

"We just wanted to see if there was anything we could do to rectify the situation," the princess hurried to explain.

"There isn't," was the soft, and flat, answer.

"Yes, that's what we learned. However, we thought that maybe we could see if we could give you choices for what you want to do from here."

Surprise colored Ella's expression.

"There aren't many," Snow quickly added. "There are a couple of jobs in my kingdom that, should you like, you can have. But if you really prefer to stay here, Jean said that a few of your father's friends would be happy to have you stay with them as long as you want or need to, or at least until you have found a job and gotten your feet under you."

Ella bit her lip, turning her head to look out the window beside them. "I've never been more than five miles from my home," she whispered.

Snow placed her hand over the other woman's. "If you want to stay here I can understand that and I will come and visit you."

The blond was clearly torn. "The jobs are already open?"

The older woman nodded. "The one in particular that I have in mind isn't easy, but you will be treated well. And you will have friends."

"What is it?"

Snow prayed that she what she was about to tell her wouldn't scare her off. "I have these friends, seven dwarf brothers, who can't seem to keep house for themselves."

"_Seven_!"

The princess raised a calming hand. "I know it sounds daunting, but they are good, kind men, who will respect you and treat you with kindness. They will never overburden you and you will have time off for yourself."

Ella was giving her a leery look.

Snow leaned forward. "If you like you can even just come and visit Everland for a while; stay with me, so that you can see how you like it. Once you've recovered if you've decided you want to come back to Riverdon I will bring you home."

The younger woman cast her eyes to the side in thought. "Can I think about it?" She looked back at Snow.

"Of course. My father, stepmother and I don't leave until tomorrow."

"Thank you."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas kept glancing at the door, though he was trying not to be obvious about it. He didn't know what it was about Ella, but he was drawn to her so strongly.

"You know, I think that the saying about watched pots applies to doors as well."

He turned at his brother's wry comment. "Funny," he countered.

James tilted his head, eyeing him consideringly. "You have really become interested in Ella, very quickly, Little Brother."

The younger prince gave him a droll look. "Pot, kettle and all that."

This drew a snort of laughter from his elder brother. "I suppose I walked into that one."

"Only slightly."

Over the last day and a half Thomas had come to understand exactly why the Everland princess had caught his brother's attention. It was strange, but even though they had only known each other a short while – not counting the time they had spent together as children – they already fit almost like puzzle pieces. "How do you think she'll take the news that you're leaving today?"

He tapped a finger on the table. "She'll probably like it about as much as I am." His eyes cut to Thomas. "What about you? What do you think of Ella possibly going to Everland?"

Jean had stopped them in the entrance hall on his way out to inform them of his lack of success in finding a position in town and that Snow was telling Ella about the jobs in Everland.

Lips compressed he said, "I don't want her so far away."

After a moment of silence he lifted his eyes to meet his brother's, understanding was clear in the older man's eyes.

"Well, from here you're less than a half-day's ride from Everbrook, where she'll be living if she does accept the job."

"True," he sighed.

The doors to the breakfast room opened; both princes rose as the King and Queen of Everland entered, as dictated by customs and courtesies. The royals exchanged greetings as they seated themselves. Only minutes later Princess Snow entered the room with Ella, prompting the men to rise again while good mornings were spoken. Once they were all seated Thomas signaled to one of the servants for breakfast to be brought out.

"We saw Bates in the hall," Snow began quietly, her eyes going to James. "He said that you were leaving today."

He nodded. "Unfortunately. My father needs me to go to Agrabah; I must leave today in order to arrive in time."

"Oh." Her head lowered to focus on the plate that had been set before her.

Thomas's eyes turned to Ella's. He raised his eyebrows briefly; she bit her lip, trying to conceal the amusement that was dancing in her eyes. His brother and the princess were so gone over each other.

"Snow has told us that you might be joining us for our return to Everland." King Leopold took a sip from his glass.

Ella turned her eyes, nervousness plain in her gaze at being addressed by the king. "I am considering it, Your Majesty. I plan to make a decision later today."

"Good."

Was it wrong, Thomas wondered, that he was still hoping she decided not to go?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

After breakfast had broken up, James approached King Leopold in the otherwise empty hall. "Your Majesty, may I speak to you privately?"

The monarch nodded his head. "Of course." He gestured for the prince to lead the way.

They chose a small study; once inside King Leopold turned to him. "What is it you wish to speak to me about?"

James was good at reading people and the king's tone revealed that he possibly knew what the prince wanted to say.

He wasn't one to beat around the bush. "I wanted to request your permission to ask your daughter to marry me."

The king gazed at him watchfully for a moment and then answered. "No."

James felt like he'd been sucker-punched; it took him several moments to recover enough to speak again. "May I ask why, Your Majesty?"

"For many reasons." The monarch clasped his hands behind his back. "I have heard of Midas's offer to your family. I know that my daughter is your only other option at this point for marriage; I would never see her married for such reasons."

The prince opened his mouth to refute the allegations the king had just laid at his door, but Leopold continued before he could do so.

"Even if I were to believe that you had feelings for her strong enough for marriage, I wouldn't permit her to be placed in a position to be under Midas's wrath." His lips became a thin line. "I'm sure you're just as aware as I am what the man is capable of."

James could not refute that.

"And on another note, my daughter has had little exposure to the public eye in her life. As you saw, our kingdom is small and close-knit, she bares little to no scrutiny there, her life has been very sheltered and she's happy that way. Becoming your bride would thrust her into a spotlight that she has never imagined; she would be put under a magnifying glass for all to inspect, exposed for the masses." The king looked him directly in the eyes. "You have gotten to know my daughter a bit, would that make her happy?"

He was gritting his teeth, but unable to deny the king's words. "No." Though just about all that he was cried out that he would do everything in his power to make her happy, even in that life the king had just described.

King Leopold moved to stand slightly to his right, in front of him. "You are leaving today; my family leaves tomorrow. It would be best if you and my daughter didn't have contact for a while. At least until one of the two of you is married."

James's jaw was still clenched, eyes staring straight ahead into the room, unable to answer the king.

"Do you not agree?" the king pressed.

He allowed his eyes to cut to the monarch.

Their eyes locked and a battle of wills ensued.

James refused to give the older man the answer he sought; instead after several moments he gave a bow. "Pardon me, Your Majesty. I must prepare for my journey." He turned his back on the king, a rude gesture by Court standards, but he really couldn't look at the man a moment longer; he stalked out of the room.

His brother met him not far down the hall.

"James, I've been looking for you, Big Brother." The younger prince pulled to an abrupt stop once he took in the expression on his brother's face. "What's happened?"

James paused beside Thomas, his fist clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Could you have my horse readied now?"

"_Now_? I thought you were going to wait until after lunch?"

He had also thought he might be proposing to Snow about now, but that wasn't going to happen. Gods he wanted to put his fist through something. "I changed my mind."

"James, what's going on?"

The elder prince managed to take a deep breath, and calm himself somewhat before turning to his brother. "Nothing you need worry about, Little Brother." He continued down the hall, ignoring the inquiry his brother sent at his back.

He all but slammed the door of his room; he wanted to grab something and throw it, but refused to give into the childish urge. His long strides took him to the balcony where he braced his hands on the railing, leaning into them and gulping in deep breaths, trying to rein in his emotions. Pain radiated from his heart as the hopes that had taken root so recently were shattered. He lifted his head to gaze at the window that was growing so familiar, there was no movement inside; she was probably with Ella somewhere. He pressed his hand to his chest over his heart; the ring was caught under the press of it. What would he tell her? How was he to deal with this?

He bowed his head.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

He was taking his time in leaving, watching the front door out of the corner of his eye.

His dawdling paid off when Snow burst through the doors and dashed down the stairs to him.

"James!" She pulled to a stop in front of him, her chest nearly heaving at what must have been a sprint through the palace; staring up at him, confusion bright in her eyes. "I heard that you're leaving now?"

His chest ached, but he nodded. "I really need to get to Agrabah as soon as possible."

Her eyes searched his. "When am I going to see you again?"

He could barely speak past the lump in his throat. "I don't know."

He could see that she was fighting to keep her face from revealing just how much she truly felt. "James?" Her uncomprehending stare locked with his.

He moved over to her; his still-ungloved hands taking one of hers. He lifted it to his lips, kissing the palm, his eyes all the while on hers. He closed her fingers over the spot and pressed another kiss to her knuckles, trying to pour everything that he felt into the gestures and his eyes.

He could give her no promise, but nor could he say good bye to her as her father wanted. His tortured gaze stayed on hers, his thumbs caressing over the spot where his mother's ring should have already been.

Her eyes continued to search his for answers, ones he couldn't give her because she adored her father, and even though the man's decision ripped his heart for his chest he could respect the king's desire to protect Snow.

His horse whinnied, shaking its head; reminding James that he had to leave and there was no way to put it off now that the decision had been made to go. Letting go of her hand was a herculean task, one that he barely managed.

Her eyes followed as he went through the motions of mounting. Their eyes met once more before he turned his steed and rode off, with the weight of her gaze heavy on his back the whole time.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella wasn't sure what to do. Her eyes kept cutting to Snow who had been staring out the window of the carriage wordlessly the whole trip so far.

Ever since Prince James had abruptly left the day before, the princess had been distracted, almost listless. When Ella had announced her decision to go to Everland Snow had smiled and voiced her happiness at the other woman's choice, but the sad, confused distance had remained in her eyes.

The blond woman desperately wanted to ask her friend what was wrong but didn't feel comfortable speaking so freely in front of the king and queen, so she held her tongue and turned to look out the window beside her.

Prince Thomas's face lingered in her mind; just before she left he had pulled her aside and quietly asked if he could possibly visit her after she had settled in. She had blushingly agreed and he had grinned widely in response. Oh, how her life had changed in – had it really only been three days? She kept expecting to wake up and find it all a dream, but so far it had remained real. She was still friends with a princess, dressed in finer clothing than she'd ever owned, sleeping in the most comfortable bed she'd ever lain on and, somehow, a prince had taken an interest in her.

She looked down at her lap where her hands caressed the book of folk tales that Thomas had pressed into her hands, saying they'd talk about them when he came to visit.

A small smile graced her lips.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_One of fate's children crouched down beside her at her loom. He pointed out a snag in the pattern, asking why she didn't correct it. Fate gave her child a smile, telling him to watch and wait…_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

*cowers under a table* PLEASE DON'T HURT OR KILL ME! They're making their way to each other, I promise, but I couldn't let it happen in only seven chapters! Besides, this way I can bring in even more characters and plot lines! I hope that even though I split them up, for the time being, that you still liked it! Thank you so much for reading and PLEASE let me know what you think! I'll be getting to work on the next chapter as soon as I'm done with the next chapter of **Hot Chocolate**. I _so_ can't wait for the episode on Sunday!


	9. Chapter 8: Worlds Away from You

HOLY BEANS AND RICE, BATMAN! O.O WOW! 17 reviews on the last chapter! 123 alerts! And 69 faves! Thank you! *does VERY silly happy dance* I was trying to get this chapter out on Saturday, but as you can see that didn't happen. It was not an overly-cooperative chapter in being written, some of it ran just fine, but then quite a bit required a lot of me going back and moving things around, rewriting certain parts, sometimes pulling teeth trying to get the characters to tell me what the HECK was supposed to happen! I made a banner for this chapter; the link is in my profile if you want to see it (I think part of the reason I made it was because this chapter was so difficult…) But here it is… No direct Snow/Charming interactions, but it IS Snowing in this chapter! ;) I hope that you like it!

The name for James's horse, "Cain", I borrowed from **Nikstlitslepmur**; definitely go over and read **In the Shadow of the Toll Bridge** and **Filling in the Blanks**, both awesome stories!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 8: Worlds Away from You**

_Everland_

Red lifted her head as a small cart rumbled into the village; her eyebrows shot up at seeing one of the passengers.

Snow cast her a smile as she had the servant pull the cart to a stop in front of the dark haired woman. "Hello, Red." She hopped down and then reached up to help the young blond woman who had been sitting next to her down.

"Princess," Red began cautiously, eyeing the stranger.

The princess helped the young woman get situated with her crutches before turning both of their attention fully to the dark haired woman.

"Red," Snow began, "this is Ella De Barbarac, I brought her here for a visit and I'm hoping that we'll be able to induce her to stay and help the dwarves." She turned to the blond. "Ella, this is Redell of Everbrook."

Red had relaxed substantially at her princess's informal attitude and casual voice. She reached out a hand to the young woman. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ella accepted the handshake with a warm smile. "You as well; Snow has told me so much about you."

"Well, hopefully I'll learn as much about you soon." Red grinned. Her eyes flicked to Snow who was observing them with a satisfied smile.

"We're actually here to meet the dwarves for lunch at Granny's," Snow explained. "Would you like to join us or does Granny need you to help?"

Red grinned at her. "Things have been quiet lately; I'm sure I could get the time off."

"Wonderful."

The three women began making their way over to the pub, maintaining a pace that Ella could comfortably keep up with. When they entered through the kitchen door, Granny looked up and moved to meet them, eyeing Ella.

"Princess." She tilted her head expectantly.

Snow, as always, placed an affectionate peck on the woman's cheek. "Granny."

The old woman's shrewd gaze turned back on the young blond woman. "And who do we have here?"

"Granny," the princess moved over to wrap and arm around the younger woman's shoulders supportively, "this is Ella De Barbarac. She's thinking about moving here and possibly working for the dwarves. We're actually meeting them for lunch here."

Granny eyed her consideringly. "Hmm, well, if she's thinking of working for those men we're gonna need to put some meat on her bones." She shooed them into the dining area along with Red after granting her granddaughter the lunch time off.

Snow's attention was caught almost immediately after entering the dining area by the tailor's family; she glanced at her two friends. "I'm going to say hello to Daniel, Michelle and the children before we order."

The other two women waved her on while they made their way to a free table.

Red's eyes remained on her princess, watching her speak warmly with the family and "ooh"ing over the baby. "What happened?" she asked the blond woman next to her lowly.

Ella looked at her a bit startled. "Sorry?"

Red turned to her. "Before she left Snow was somewhat distracted, but now…" She frowned. "She's forcing herself to _not_ be distracted, to stay busy. Which tells me that something happened," her eyes moved back to the princess, who was now kneeling down beside Sophie, "and by the shadows in her eyes something upset her." She looked back at the other woman.

The blond bit her lip. "I'm not sure what happened, truthfully. I haven't had the chance to speak to her since we left Riverdon. But she became very quiet after Prince James left."

"Prince James was there?" Red was quick to pick up.

"Yes." Ella nodded.

"Well…what happened?" the dark haired woman questioned a bit impatiently.

"I know that they spent some time together and they really seemed interested in one another," Ella slowly elaborated. "Then the day before we left he received a message from his father and he had to leave for Agrabah." She frowned. "He said he was going to leave after lunch but then abruptly changed his plans and left hardly an hour after breakfast."

"Why?"

The blond shrugged. "I'm not sure. I saw him leave from my balcony; I only knew that he was because Snow was with me when the maid came in and informed us. Snow all but ran out. I went to the balcony and I saw Snow running out of the palace to where Prince James was beside his horse. From what I could tell they were both _very_ upset; he kissed her hand a couple of times, he didn't seem to want to leave, and then he mounted his horse and rode off."

Red was frowning deeply. "And she didn't say anything about it?" Her eyes cut briefly to the princess, making sure that she was still preoccupied.

Ella shook her head. "No. She was just really quiet for the rest of the time we were there and became even quieter on the ride here. Then this morning when she came to get me for breakfast she was back to a facsimile of how she was before, but her heart wasn't in it."

Red's frown became even more troubled. She had known her princess far too long not to recognize the signs of something bothering her, but she hadn't seen Snow so bad since her mother died. Her eye was caught by the princess rising to her feet and bidding the family goodbye before moving back to their table. Red put a smile back on her face; out of the corner of her eye she saw Ella doing the same. Perhaps, she mused, the quiet blond was the local ally for whom she'd been looking for years to help Red protect Snow from herself.

The princess took a seat, smiling. "It's good to see Michelle and the baby doing so well."

"Yes," the other dark haired woman agreed, "Doc said that even with the complications of the birth little Aaron will likely grow up strong and healthy."

Snow's eyes turned back to the family, smiling. "That's what Michelle said; I'm so glad to hear it."

Red was watching her princess very closely and saw the longing that always colored her expression whenever she thought about children and family, but there was also troubled confusion and an almost lost look in her eyes. It made Red want to storm right up to Prince James and demand to know what the hell he'd done to her best friend.

A cacophony at the door to the pub drew the attention of just about everyone. The seven dwarves had arrived in their usual sound and fury. Grumpy was the first one to see them and pointed the three women out to the others.

Snow rose and proceeded to hug each of the seven men who were like brothers and uncles to her; real love and affection filling her face as she laughingly spoke to them and introduced them all to Ella.

Red's eyes turned to the blond who looked like she was still trying to decide how to react to the group.

The dwarves also seemed to be sizing her up.

Grumpy caught Ella looking at him in particular. "What are you looking at, sister?"

"Grumpy," Snow gently chided, "be nice."

His eyes went to the princess, his whole demeanor softening. All of the dwarves adored Snow, even counted her as one of their own, but for some reason that Red had never been able to fully divine, Snow and Grumpy seemed to have a particular fondness for each other. Goodness knew Snow could nearly turn the dwarf as soft as down with one quiet word or look, and he was protective of her to nearly the extreme.

"Sorry," the gruff man muttered contritely to Ella.

"It's fine," Ella was quick to reassure, "I wasn't offended." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry if I was staring, I'm just still a bit overwhelmed by everything that's happened."

"That's understandable." Doc patted the young woman's hand.

While the dwarves began talking to the young blond, all of them getting to know each other, Snow sat quietly at first watching them, but soon Red saw her gaze become distant as her thoughts slipped to elsewhere.

"What's wrong with Snow?"

Red turned at Grumpy's muttered question in her ear. "We're not entirely sure," she whispered back. She nearly told him that they suspected it was about Prince James but was afraid how the dwarf might react; she didn't want the prince hurt if it was just a misunderstanding or something.

He frowned. "She's too quiet. I don't like it."

Red pressed her lips together. "Neither do I."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Riverdon_

Thomas was standing on the balcony outside his office; it was still strange thinking of this whole palace being _his_, no longer being under his father's rule but running a household and kingdom of his own. He really wished that James was here for him to talk to in moments like this, when it was hitting him particularly hard how insufficient he felt to the task.

He sighed, leaning his hands on the railing.

To say that he was shocked at being suddenly accosted by a bird would have been an understatement.

He waved his hand as the bright blue animal continued to circle his head, twittering at him insistently.

Finally the animal, apparently satisfied that it had harassed him sufficiently, fluttered down to the railing and continued to chirp at him.

He looked down at the excitable animal, once he had the bird dropped its head, pushing a long thin scroll toward him with its beak.

He reached down, picking up the scroll. "Uh… I take it this is for me?"

He took the chirp the bird gave as an affirmation.

He unrolled the paper and was pleasantly surprised to see Ella's name at the bottom; he lifted his eyes to look at the bird. "Umm…thank you."

The bird chirped at him again and settled down on the railing; it looked almost expectantly at him.

He looked down at the letter. He had heard of animals being far more sentient than most people gave them credit for, but had never really experienced it until now and it was slightly unnerving.

_Dear Thomas,_

_I wanted to write you, but since sending a letter by conventional means would be improper, Snow offered to have one of her blue birds carry it for me. Her name is Azalea. She's been instructed to wait until you tell her if you want to send a response; Snow's only request is that you see she is well fed before sending her back._

Thomas glanced at the bird, Azalea; he turned to the table behind him where he'd been eating lunch, picked up a roll from his plate and, breaking it up, set the crumbs before the bird. It chirped in what he figured was thanks before it began gobbling up the pieces. He turned back to his letter.

_I hope that all is well with you. I'm not sure if you're still in Riverdon or if you have returned to Seaborn, but Snow has assured me that Azalea will be able to find you regardless of where you are. I can only hope that she is correct, but she seems very confident._

_What have you been doing? How have you been doing? Have you been able to read any of the books I recommended to you? If so what did you think of them?_

_I am settling here in Everland happily; Snow has introduced me to her friends not only here but three royals from other kingdoms: King Gaspard of Rosewood, Princess Aurora of Glenbriar and your cousin, Prince Eric of Seaside. They were all so wonderful, and warm; I liked them almost from the start. Aurora and Eric bickered and teased each other like siblings while Gaspard was rather like an indulgent older brother. Red helped Aurora and Snow needle the two men and invited me to do the same but I'm not quite as comfortable as she with them yet._

_I just realized that I mentioned Red above but have not even explained who she is. Red, a nickname for Redell, is the granddaughter of Beatrix of Everbrook, the owner of the local Inn and Pub. She and Snow have been friends almost all their lives, they're a lot like sisters really. She was rather wary of me at first but seemed to warm up soon enough. Red's grandmother, Granny as she insists everyone calls her, is a force to be contended with; her word is law and she will order around everyone from princess to peasant. Red told me that while your brother was here visiting Granny had him peeling potatoes in the kitchen._

Thomas chuckled at the little anecdote.

_I'll admit to being rather overwhelmed at first upon meeting the seven dwarves; they're so boisterous and full of character, definitely a little rough around the edges but good-hearted men. I have agreed to work for them, and in all honesty I believe that working for seven miners who can't seem to conceptualize the basics of neatness will never be as hard as working for my stepmother and stepsisters. Snow had a servant drive us out to their home so that I could look around; the cabin they have for me is in a bit of disuse, but Snow and Red have both promised that they'll help and it shouldn't take too long before we have it sorted. It is a small place, but it will be cozy and it will be my own home, something I haven't had in many years._

Thomas ached from missing her, but found himself able to be glad for the obvious happiness in her tone of writing.

_I have to admit to being worried about Snow, as are the rest of our friends. She hasn't been the same since your brother's departure from Riverdon. Do you know what happened? Why he left so suddenly?_

Oh, did Thomas ever wish he did; he grimaced. He had only received two short notes from James since he left and neither had been enlightening about the situation. He worried for his brother as well, since the man's disquiet was obvious in the few words he had written.

_Gaspard is attending the gala in Agrabah; he said that if he was able he would speak to James and see if he could find out what was wrong._

Thomas wished the man good luck, knowing his stubborn, tight-lipped brother.

_You asked me before I left if you could call upon me after I had settled here._

His breath caught.

_I plan on moving into the cabin in a week, once my ankle is stronger. I would welcome a visit at any time. I have missed you, Thomas. I hope that you will come soon. I have been reading the book of fables that you gave me; I look forward to the chance to talk about them with you._

_Ella_

Thomas looked at the bird with a wide grin. "You might want to take a nap, this will take a while."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Several Days Later_

_Agrabah_

James was in a foul mood. Had been since he left Riverdon. He'd been able to temper his emotions by either engaging in sparring – though he was pretty sure that at this point he'd run off any potential partners for that with his rather fierce fighting – going for rides across the sands or practicing his archery. But with the gala today he hadn't been able to do any of the above, and to make matters worse Midas had been prodding him about proposing to Abigail. All in all he was in such a bad temper that he was staying off to the side and all but glaring at anyone who came near him.

His glass was deftly pulled out of his hand and he found himself being turned toward one side of the room by his arm. He looked down and was met with the tempestuous princess of Agrabah. "Jasmine…"

She continued to steer him with surprising strength toward a goal unknown to him. "James, you're gripping that glass so tightly you're about to shatter it."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry, Jasmine."

"No need to apologize to me." She pulled them to a stop off to the side and turned him so that they were facing each other. "Now. The training grounds are empty right now, go work off this…" she waved her hand vaguely at him, "whatever this is, before you offend someone."

He took a deep breath. "I apologize –"

"Stop apologizing and just go!" she pushed him in the direction of the stairs out.

He allowed himself to be directed away, honestly thankful for the reprieve.

Less than fifteen minutes later he had shed his outer shirt and cravat and was standing across from a target firing off arrows at it, feeling little better for it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone moving toward him, the gait, height and hair color were unmistakable. After he fired off the arrow currently in the bow he turned toward the advancing figure. "Is there something you needed, Your Highness?"

"No," King Gaspard said smoothly. He bent over, picking up a bow and a few arrows in one hand before limping over to stand beside James.

The prince observed the young king as he set down his cane and loaded an arrow into his bow; James turned back to his target doing the same.

The king released the arrow; it hit just a little off center. "I have a friend who enjoys archery a great deal."

James's arrow hit dead center; he notched another.

Both men drew back their bows nearly simultaneously.

"She's quite a good shot…Snow White."

The prince's arrow flew to the far right hitting the wrong target.

The king lowered his bow, arrow unfired; one corner of his mouth lifting as he faced the prince who was still staring at his target. "And she becomes just as distracted when we mention your name."

James lowered his head, allowing the arm that held the bow to drop, his hand clenching around it. His chest ached at Snow's name; everything in him crying out for her. "How is she?" his voice was rough.

"Very distracted…" King Gaspard looked at him watchfully, "and confused and distressed…do I need to continue?"

His jaw was clenched. "No. I have the picture." He glanced for a moment at the other man. James had never had many chances to speak to King Gaspard; he was only a year older than James, but like Snow had chosen to withdraw from High Court life until two years ago when the time for his coronation had approached and forced him to once again rejoin. Some Court members were still shocked and repulsed by the disfiguring scars that the young man bore, calling him the "Scarred King" behind his back, but James had seen just as bad, and worse in battle. As it was Gaspard and his parents, when they lived, had only attended High Court functions sporadically; Snow had explained that the only reason they had become friends was that their mothers along with Aurora's had been close friends themselves and the three had bonded together over visits. From the affection in her voice and the way she spoke of the young king, James knew that she thought of this man as her older brother. And from the look in the man's eyes she was his little sister, and he had every right to be angry with James for hurting her. He pressed his hand to his chest where the ring still hung; he couldn't leave it behind, keeping it with him while he struggled to find a way for him and Snow to be together.

The king observed him for several moments before bending over to pick up his cane and limping over to set it in the rack alongside the others. "Prince James, I'm not known for my tact." He moved over to a bench, sitting down and looking at the prince. "But I am good at reading people." He eyed James thoughtfully. "You're suffering. Whatever it is that is keeping you from her is tearing you up, as much as this absence is hurting Snow."

James felt exposed under the king's all-too knowing gaze and frank words. "What do you know?" he asked in an even, tight tone.

"Only what Ella has told us of what she knows happened in Riverdon, what Red and Snow told us of your first visit and what we have all been able to deduce from it all." His gaze was unnervingly steady. "Why did you leave like you did?"

He looked off to the side, lips pressed into a thin line. "I didn't have much choice in the matter." He tapped the end of the bow on the ground agitatedly. "I was put into a position that I felt I was fairly trapped and to leave like that was my only choice…as much as I hated doing it."

The king's eyes narrowed. "What made you feel that way?" He studied the prince a moment longer. "Or is it a who?"

James lifted his eyes to meet the other man's, his hand clenched around the top of the bow. After several moments of their eyes not wavering in their silent stalemate James opened his mouth.

"James!"

Both of their heads turned at the call.

Jasmine pulled to an abrupt stop at realizing that the prince wasn't alone. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Princess Jasmine," King Gaspard assured her. "You have something to tell Prince James?"

She looked the king up and down for a moment warily before turning to the prince. "Your father is looking for you. He seemed pretty insistent on seeing you now."

James was already moving, putting the bow away and picking up his fine shirt and cravat. "Thank you, Jasmine."

He began following his friend back toward the palace, but stopped and turned back mid-way there. "King Gaspard?"

"Hmm?" the man acknowledged, turning to him as well.

"When you see her –" his voice broke; he swallowed thickly before he continued. "When you see Snow...could you tell her that, what I told her about my dreams…it's still true."

The king eyed him thoughtfully before nodding. "I will tell her."

"Thank you," he managed around the tightness in his throat.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Ella was leaning on her crutch – her ankle was feeling steadier and she had decided to start just using one crutch instead of two – as she wiped at one of the windows in her cabin. _Her cabin._ She couldn't help grinning every time that thought crossed her mind. This was _her_ home that she could arrange as she pleased and no one could order her around. She had piece by piece been regaining control of her life, taking charge of it once more, and changing it. It felt good.

"You know," Ella turned at Red's voice; the dark haired woman was scrubbing a few dishes in the sink, "you haven't stopped smiling since you received that letter from Prince Thomas." The other woman's eyes were glittering with mischief.

The blond cast her a look. "I have _many_ reasons to be happy right now." She dunked her rag in the bucket of water and continued to clean the window.

"Not the least of which being having a prince showing an interest in courting you," Red teased.

Ella flicked water at her. "He has said nothing of the sort." She bit her lip, trying to suppress a grin.

"But he _is_ coming to visit you…" she commented slyly.

The blond pressed a hand to the pocket of her apron, where she still carried his reply. She was helpless to prevent the grin that slid across her face. "Yes, he is."

The dark haired woman gave a put-upon groan. "You know, between you and Snow it's almost sickening."

A well-aimed rag splatted against Red's shoulder.

"You're just jealous," Ella teasingly taunted.

Up went a sarcastic eyebrow. "Right…_that's_ it." She slung the rag back; it was caught in a deft hand.

They shared a laugh for a few moments.

Red's eyes were drawn out the window above the sink and the amusement faded from her face.

Ella followed her friend's gaze.

Snow was hanging linens on the line, but even from their distance both of the women could see that the princess was miles away, eyes unfocused.

"What are we going to do?" Red murmured worriedly. "She's just getting worse."

Ella pressed her lips together. "Maybe Gaspard will have some good news when he returns, or at least some answers."

The dark haired woman let out a weary sigh, looking back down at the dishes. "We can only hope."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas kept an eye out for the landmarks Ella had told him of in her letter, thankfully they weren't difficult to find, and before long a low sprawling cottage with a smaller cabin behind it came into view. What assured him he was in the right place was the sight of Snow White, standing at the wash line hanging sheets. Ella hadn't been exaggerating about the princess's inattentiveness, she didn't notice him until he was nearly atop her.

When she looked up surprise flashed through her expression but then a warm smile spread across her face and she turned toward the cabin. "Ella, you have a visitor."

There was audible rustling from inside the cabin as the prince dismounted and tied his horse to a tree branch; his breath caught when Ella appeared in the doorway. She wasn't wearing any finery, just a simple dress of a lovely robin-egg blue, with a white apron and a kerchief covering her hair, but she was the most beautiful sight he had seen in almost two weeks.

A glowing smile spread across her face. "Thomas."

"Hello, Ella," he greeted, moving toward her.

She bit her lip. "I didn't expect you so soon."

He came to a stop a couple of feet in front of her. "Well, I wanted to see if there was any way I could help in preparing your home."

"What is it with the men in your family being willing to be put to work?" A tall dark haired woman in a scarlet skirt was leaning in the doorway, smirking at him.

Ella rolled her eyes. "Thomas, this is Redell. Red, Prince Thomas."

"Red" straightened up and curtseyed, but there was amusement in her eyes as she did so. "Your Majesty."

He nodded his head, eyebrow raised. "So you are the infamous Red that I've heard so much about from Ella, Snow and James."

The dark haired woman gave a mocking bow. "I try." She began turning to go back inside. "If you know how to use a hammer, the hinge on that shutter over there," she pointed at the object in question, "could be reattached." She sauntered inside, calling over her shoulder. "Ella, get back in here and sit down for a few minutes. Doc'll have our heads if you stress your ankle too much."

The blond gave a put-upon sigh before grinning at him. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hand as she passed him.

A warmth blossomed in his heart and he couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across his face if he'd tried. "You're welcome."

With one last shy grin she followed the taller woman inside.

"You should feel flattered."

He turned at the laughing tone behind him. "Why's that?" he questioned the Everland Princess.

She shook out a sheet before beginning to clip it to the line. "Red rarely takes to anyone so quickly." Her eyes were dancing with laughter.

"Well, don't I feel special," he remarked drolly as he pulled off his jacket to hang it on the horn of his saddle.

Snow laughed softly; she bit her lip, staring at the linen in her hands with a little more attention than necessary. "I thought that you might be in Agrabah, at the gala."

Thomas shook his head as he rolled up his sleeves, moving over to the tool box sitting by the sagging shutter. "I try to avoid going there whenever possible."

The princess raised both eyebrows at him. "Why?"

Rummaging through the tool box he grimaced. "Because every time I see Sultan he tries to set me up with his daughter." He looked at her over his shoulder. "And while I like Jasmine well enough, I _don't_ want to marry her. That would be like…" he turned back around to the tool box while he considered how to put it, "like shooting myself in the foot with an arrow."

Snow gave a choked laugh. "That's quite a…vivid picture."

He snorted. "As I said I like Jasmine, but she's too…temperamental for my sanity. _And_ she has something against any man her father is trying to set her up with."

She laughed softly. "I don't remember much about her from when we were children; I'll have to become reacquainted with her someday."

He paused in pulling back the hammer for the first strike, contemplating the image that presented. "You know, that thought scares me… The two of you meeting again."

They worked in silence for several moments, Thomas waiting for the inevitable questions.

She cleared her throat. "So, does Sultan try to set James up with her?"

"He used to." He began to mentally pick his words carefully, unsure of how much she knew of the "Midas situation".

"But he hasn't since Midas's proposal for a marriage between James and Abigail."

Well, that settled that. "Right."

"James told me," she explained.

A thick silence fell again.

Snow's voice thin when she spoke again. "Have you heard from him?"

Thomas felt a pang of sympathy for her. "Very little, only a couple of notes."

"Oh." She clipped what he thought was a table cloth to the line. "Is he well?"

"He doesn't say," he told her between sharp raps of the hammer. "Which means 'no'."

When she didn't say anything he looked over his shoulder to see her staring off into the distance, wringing the fabric in her hands unnecessarily. In that moment, seeing the momentarily unguarded pain in her eyes, Thomas wanted to grab his brother and drag him back to Everland by the ear, demanding he set this right.

Snow shook herself and returned to her work.

Oh, yes, James was going to be hearing from him. And when they broke for lunch he found out he wasn't the only one.

Red grabbed him by the arm as he was passing her to go to inside, and she discreetly pulled them just out of earshot of the other two women.

He raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Is there something you need?"

"Yes." Her mouth was set in a grim line. "I need you to tell your brother to pull his head from wherever he has it stuck and at least send Snow a letter. Because if he allows her to continue in this agony, I don't care if he's a royal, I will run him through myself."

Both of his eyebrows shot up. "I'll let him know."

"Good."

With the fierce look on the dark haired woman's face, Thomas found himself exceedingly glad not to be his brother.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Later that evening before sunset, they were gathered in Granny and Red's, for the moment, quiet kitchen, mostly so that Thomas and Ella could have some chaperoned, but relatively alone private time.

"There was something I wanted to discuss with you." Ella brought the tome of fables that Thomas had given her to rest on her lap.

He leaned closer to her. "What is it?"

She cracked the book open and flipped through the pages to a particular one and showed it to him. "I take it that you're familiar with the _Legend of the Sea_?"

"A _little_," he joked.

She grinned at him, resting her hands on the pages and leaning her head closer to his; her eyes cut momentarily to Snow before looking back at the prince next to her. "Have you ever heard of the legend about how Everland was born?"

He shrugged. "No."

Her grin grew wider.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"What are they talking about?" Red was staring at the couple bent over the book with a frown.

Snow kept her head bent over the wrap she was embroidering the edge of for Aurora as a birthday present. "Nothing that is our business," she said dryly, knowing where this was leading.

"He's sitting very close to her."

The princess rolled her eyes, looking up at her friend. "They are being entirely appropriate." She shifted her hold on the fabric. "You're being very protective of Ella, since you haven't known her that long, even more so than you were of me."

Red frowned. "You can easily hold your own with any man; Ella is much younger and sweeter and more innocent."

"I thought you liked Thomas," Snow quietly pointed out.

Red looked back down at the sock she was darning. "I like him well enough…except when he is showing interest in my friend."

Snow shook her head, a wry grin pulling at her lips.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas was looking at Ella with amused surprise-near-disbelief. "Seriously?"

Her eyes were dancing as she nodded. "That's the Everland's legend."

He turned his head to glance at the princess before looking back at the blond woman, laughter spilling out. "I wonder if James knows about this…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Two days later_

Thomas had had to leave the day before needing to see to several things back in Riverdon before he returned to Seaborn in five days. His visit had left Ella with a smile lingering on her face, which Snow was happy for, even as her own heart continued to ache painfully.

She was sitting on the bench that curved the whole way around the central fountain in the garden, her arms crossed atop the ledge with her chin resting on them, staring at the water cascading down.

"Two miserable, heartbroken faces in less than a week."

Her head whipped around at the smooth, measured cadence behind her and her lips quirked up.

Gaspard leaned easily on his cane. "I really don't enjoy seeing such things ever, but so close together…now that's quite depressing really."

She tilted her head to the side, giving him a look. "Does your commentary serve a purpose?"

He nodded his head. "It does." He moved to sit beside her. "I have just come from Agrabah."

_This_ got Snow's attention. "You were there for the gala?"

"Indeed," he nodded easily, his gaze watchful on her. "I happened upon a certain prince while I was there."

Snow's breath caught. "How is he?" She didn't bother pretending not knowing whom he meant.

Gaspard's eyes remained trained on her. "As distracted and hurting as a beloved friend of mine."

Tears pricked her eyes.

"And," he continued, "he asked that I pass on a message to you."

She sat up straighter, _very_ interested. "What is it?"

He looked up thoughtfully. "He said to tell you that what he told you about his dreams is still true." He looked back down at her.

The ache in her heart, for the first time since James rode off, eased a bit. A small, but genuine, smile lifted her lips. "Thank you, Gaspard."

He bowed his head. "My pleasure, Snow."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Gaspard watched Snow out of the window in Granny's kitchen; she was reading a book to a group of children. Sophie, the smallest, was in her lap while the rest of the children were clustered around her as close as possible.

"She looks better than she did only this morning," Red commented from beside him.

"But not entirely," he quietly countered.

"No," she agreed.

They stood just watching the princess for several moments.

"What did he say?" Red finally turned to look at him.

Gaspard sighed, tapping his cane softly on the floor. "Other than a personal message for her, very little. What I could gather from his demeanor and what little he told me, he didn't really leave willingly." He looked at the dark haired woman beside him. "He loves her as much as she loves him, whether they've said it or not." He turned his head back to their friend outside. "But something is keeping him from returning to her, no matter how much he wants to."

"So you don't believe he's stringing her along?" Red asked; he knew she didn't really believe that was the case but she wanted reassurances.

"No," Gaspard confirmed definitively, "he's a man of honor. And somehow," he pressed his lips together, narrowing his eyes, "I think that might be part of the issue."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

_James, send her a gods blessed letter!_

James had long ago learned that his younger brother only used oaths when he was particularly upset, annoyed…or angry. And from what his younger brother had written he had reason to be all of the above, in fact all of Snow's friends did. The letter had been waiting for him when he arrived home from Agrabah, though Thomas wasn't due back for another two days. James scanned the words again, he had notice woven between his brother's annoyance was the warmth and affection that had colored his writing of Ella; it was blindingly obvious that his little brother was falling in love with the young woman. James mentally wished him good luck before his eyes were once again caught by his brother's blunt words which echoed King Gaspard's own.

_Her friends are worried sick…so am I…not smiling…distracted…hurting…What in the name of all that is good and holy were you thinking…make this right...Ella can't stop worrying…Red's angry…threatened to run you through herself…FIX THIS!_

He lowered the letter to the railing of his balcony, lifting his gaze to stare out over the moonlit sea. He inwardly castigated himself over causing Snow such pain, hating himself for it. Rules of propriety and society be damned, Thomas was right. He needed to write to her, and try to at least reassure her; the question just became how to get the message to her…

That hurdle barely lasted a minute before his mind quickly came with a solution and a grin spread across his face as he moved over to his writing desk. He dipped the quill into the inkpot and prepared to pen the letter.

_Dearest Snow,_

_King Gaspard and Thomas have told me that I hurt you. I am beyond sorry for any pain I have caused you. I would never have had you feel such hurt or doubt. It tears me in two to think of you in pain, and that I am the cause kills me. It was no fault of yours that I left Riverdon as I did, but of my own. If the way I left caused you to doubt, allow me to be plain, my feelings for you are unchanged, as are my wishes. I still want you and I want forever. You have my heart, always. I pray that my actions have not caused you to change your mind about me, though I could certainly not blame you if they have. If you are willing to forgive me, as soon as we can see each other again I promise to give you the explanation you deserve._

_I miss you, Snow. I can hardly breathe from the ache to see you again. I don't know when that will be, but as soon as there is a chance, I will take it._

_With all my heart,_

_James_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

For the first time since James rode off Snow felt a full, real smile spreading across her face. She still ached with missing him, but the words of his letter were a balm to the pain in her heart, easing it to a tolerable point. Her eyes went to the post script.

_P.s. I know she's not a blue bird_ – Snow could hear his teasing tone in her head – _but this dove can carry a message back to me, should you wish to send one._ –His voice took on an insecure and pleading note.

She glanced over at the dove that was pecking up the crumbs of honey bread and sipping the water from the plates she had set out for it. Snow reached out a gentle finger to stroke along the bird's neck.

"Well, my girl, after a rest would you be up to carrying a letter back to him for me?"

The dove cooed an affirmation, bringing a smile to Snow's face. "Thank you." With a final affectionate stroke of a finger, the princess stood and went to her desk. Whimsically she propped the letter up where she could look at it, and then, dipping her quill in ink, set about a reply to her prince.

_My dear James,_

She looked down at the piece of paper for a moment, trying to find some words that at least sketched out what she wanted to say.

_Please, find me when you can. Like you promised. And I will try to find a way to see you. I will expect a _full_ explanation for _everything.

_I miss you all the time. I want my Prince Charming with me, now and always. _

_My heart is yours. Forever._

_Your Snow_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

A warm smile curled James's lips as he finished reading Snow's letter. It was short, her words few, but it soothed the ache considerably and reassured him. Her simple "_Your Snow_" meant the world to him.

The dove, Rhiannon her name was according to Snow's post script, was fluttering off from the balcony toward the roost in one of the highest towers, where she and the other members of her flock lived. How his beloved found out the dove's name he didn't know but he didn't question the validity of her information either. She had as much of an affinity for animals as she had for children.

"I'll take it from that grin that it's good news."

James didn't bother to look over his shoulder at his brother, who was leaning back against the doorway to the balcony. "Nothing you need to know of, Little Brother."

The younger man gave a soft snort. "You two are far too obvious."

Turning to walk inside he cast his younger brother a look. "I believe that not too long ago you made a comment about a pot and a kettle?"

Thomas rolled his eyes following James inside. "I don't see why you don't just go and propose to her already?"

James stiffened, the glow that Snow's letter had put in his chest dimming a bit at the reminder of why they weren't together at that very moment. "There are things to deal with first," he told him tightly, as he tucked the letter away next to his heart.

"What 'things' could possibly be so important as to keep you from the woman you so obviously love?"

James lifted his eyes to stare out the window. "Something that I have to handle before I can propose to her."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

"Well, there's something we haven't seen in far too long."

Snow looked over her shoulder at Red's teasing voice.

Ella rolled her eyes at Red's teasing before turning her gaze to the princess with a warm smile. "Nice to see your smile back." Her hands remained busy over the darning she was doing on some of the dwarves' clothing.

Red's eyes were dancing; she raised an eyebrow, her quill pausing over the figures she was going over for Granny's. "I wonder what could have brought it on?"

Snow turned back to where she was going over the menu for the week, her father and stepmother had begun having her handle more and more of the day-to-day running of the castle as well as working on the affairs of the kingdom at-large. She bit her lip, trying to contain her grin. "I have no idea what you mean."

Red's smirk was very broad. "You're a terrible liar Snow."

"And you are far too nosy," the princess countered, giving her friend a look.

The kettle over the fire let out a whistle; Ella went over to remove it from the flames and carried it over to their pot. "Ignore her, Snow." She poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. "She's just jealous that she doesn't have a love life to speak of and must live vicariously through us."

Snow turned to their friend with a wide grin, while the other woman rolled her eyes at both of them.

"As I said before, _Ella_, why on earth would I be jealous of you two? If those princes decide to get around to proposing to the two of you, you're both going to have your hands constantly full with handling kingdoms." She waved her hand at the princess beside her. "Snow'll have _two_."

Snow gave the other dark haired woman a droll look. "That's not what she meant, and you know it."

Red rose to fetch them mugs. "I have no interest in falling in love, _Princess_, I like my life just the way it is, thank you _very_ much."

The other two women shared amused, secretive glances. "We'll see," Snow quietly murmured.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

James was tired and just wanted to be home already. His father had sent him to deal with a dispute between two towns; it hadn't taken all that long really but he was just worn out. His soul yearned for the solace of the woman he loved, but he would settle for a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon, a hot bath and a night's rest in his own bed. He had to force himself not to push his steed too hard, Cain had always served him well, and didn't deserve to be forced too hard after the last few days, though the animal seemed as eager as the prince to get home.

Up ahead a wagon was stopped at the side of the road with a man bent beside the horses.

Frowning, James pulled on the reins, forcing Cain to slow.

The small man looked up, hearing his approach; he moved to meet his approach, leaning heavily on a staff.

James and Cain stopped beside the man.

"Your pardon, sir," the man's brogue was thick, "but might I beg some aid?"

Not allowing himself to look longingly in the direction of home, the prince swung down from Cain's back. "What seems to be the problem?" He remained alert in case it was a set up.

The man led him over to the nearest horse; patting its neck. "She threw her shoe and I need help in unhitching her."

James glanced at him. "What about the wagon."

"Oh, I unloaded the goods in town and it's empty," the diminutive man assured him. "The other horse'll be able to bear it alone if we go slowly, but I need to get this one unhitched and tied to the back."

The prince gave a sigh. "Very well."

"My deepest thanks, sir." The man grinned at him revealing not the best-kept grin.

James set about unhitching the horse from the wagon with the man doing what he could.

"How did you manage to get the horses hitched up in the first place, if I might ask?"

"M'bu." There was obvious pride in the man's tone.

The younger man glanced up. "Your son?"

"Aye. He's a good lad, so helpful to me." The man tilted his head to the side. "You know I've been rude, I haven't introduced myself. Rumplestiltskin."

An unexplainable chill ran up James's spine at the name, but he hid it and accepted the handshake. "James," he stated simply, deciding it might be best not to impart to this man his royal status.

"Quite a pleasure, James," the man said genially. "I am most grateful for the help."

The prince had managed to free the horse from the wagon and led it away from it.

"Ah!" Rumplestiltskin gave a pleased grin, accepting the lead rope from James and leading the horse to the back of the wagon. "My thanks again, James."

"You're welcome." The prince nodded his head.

The small stranger tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "You know, you're the spitting image of your father."

This stopped the prince dead. "Pardon?"

"James of Ashbury," Rumplestiltskin said simply. "Is that not your father?"

He eyed the older man warily. "No…"

"Oh, well," the man said frowning slightly, "my mistake then. You just look exactly like him. But he did die a long time ago and we never did see his wife Ruth again after that winter…"

James went still.

The stranger seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then his eyes refocused on James and he smiled. "Well, as I said, my mistake." He turned and climbed up onto the wagon.

"Rumplestiltskin."

"Yes, dearie?" the man inquired.

A wariness had settled into the prince's soul. "When did James of Ashbury die?"

"Ohhhh…" The man cast his gaze upward in thought. "Must've been…nearly thirty years ago… Yes," he smiled definitively "I remember it will be thirty years this fall. He and his wife Ruth hadn't been married even a year when he passed. One day toward the end of the winter she left the farm and never came back." He gave him a grin. "Quite mysterious." He lifted the reins. "Well, safe travels, James."

James nodded absently, not noticing the crafty gleam in the man's eyes as he urged the horse on.

It was several moments before he could rouse himself enough to mount Cain and continued on his way.

The whole rest of the way home his mind was fraught with thoughts of what Rumplestiltskin had told him.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sun was low in the sky; shining directly through the west-facing stained glass windows and causing the tall bookshelves to cast long straight shadows across the mosaic floor of the library.

James slowly approached Belle's desk, seeing the young librarian bent over her ledgers, making marks and checking records. He came to a stop in front of her without her noticing his approach. Normally he would have taken advantage of her distraction but after meeting Rumplestiltskin on the road earlier he was out of his usual humor. He quietly cleared his throat.

Belle was still a bit startled as she looked up to find him standing there. "James!" She set her quill down. "What are you doing here? I thought that you were settling that dispute."

He lightly rested his fingertips on the desk's surface. "It didn't take that long to get things worked out," he explained. "I thought I'd come by and see you to your father's."

"Oh," she looked down at her ledgers, "I couldn't possibly get off early, I have far too much to do –"

"Belle," he softly interrupted, "it's nearly six."

She went still, eyes wide. "Is it?" She turned to look at the clock on the wall. "Goodness!" She pushed herself to her feet, quickly marking pages and closing books. "I had entirely lost track of the hour."

James stepped back, waiting for her to gather her things. "So I noticed," he gently teased.

She shoved a couple of books into her bag before slinging the strap over her shoulder. "I was just trying to make sure I had received all of the books that I wanted to send to Riverdon." She moved around the desk and began walking toward the door, James keeping pace beside her. "There's just so _many_."

"You know you don't have to rebuild the library all at once," he reminded her. "Thomas fully expects it takes a few years, probably at least most of his lifetime really."

"I know," the librarian acknowledged. "But you know me."

He cast her a wry grin. "That I do."

She eyed him as they made their way through the halls. "You're very quiet today, James."

He glanced at her briefly. "Tired," he told her simply. "It's been a long few days."

Sharp brown eyes narrowed. "No, not just that. Something's troubling you."

He frowned, always unnerved at how well she read him. "I have some things on my mind."

Belle was frowning, obviously not satisfied with his explanation, but nodded and looked back forward.

"How's your father doing?" the prince asked. "Is he settling in well?"

An affectionate smile spread across her face. "You know Papa. If he has room to tinker he's happy." She turned to him with a wide smile. "You've become one of his favorite people by making it his job to invent and giving him such free rein."

James chuckled softly. "Whatever makes him happy. Besides, the occasional disturbance that he brings around here keeps things interesting."

She rolled her eyes. "Only you would call nearly blowing up part of the castle an 'occasional disturbance' and consider it 'amusing'."

He gave her a charming grin. "The fact that he has these 'mishaps' usually when my father starts bothering me about something endears them to me."

She gave a light laugh. "Noticed that, have you?"

James smirked. "Tell him he as my thanks."

"I'll do that." She grinned.

They had reached the door to the apartments she shared with her father.

"Belle," he stopped, turning to face her, "I have a favor to ask."

Her head canted to the side, one corner of her lips quirking up wryly. "I thought you might."

He gave her a self-deprecating grin. "That transparent am I?"

"Very."

"Good to know," he chuckled.

She looked at him inquiringly. "So, what can I do?"

"I was wondering if you could help me go through some records tomorrow?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Just some from about thirty years ago."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Two days later King George was pouring over reports and maps, and Queen Ruth was working on the household ledgers when James came into the study.

He stood in the doorway for a moment observing his parents before clasping his hands behind his back and clearing his throat.

Both monarchs looked up.

"James," his mother's voice was warm.

"Son," his father greeted in his usual tone.

"Father. Mother. May I have a word with you both?"

The king and queen glanced at each other at their son's tone; they both set aside what they were working on and turned their full attention to him.

"What is it, son?" the king inquired.

James closed the doors firmly behind him before clasping his hands behind his back again. "Two days ago as I returned home I came across a man on the road to whom I rendered some assistance."

The monarchs nodded, not seeing where this was going but letting him know they were listening.

"I only told him that my name was James, not that I was Prince James. After I had helped him he commented that I was 'the spitting image' of my father."

His parents went still.

James's sharp eyes took in their reactions. "Now, we all know that David and I don't resemble Father at all and when I asked him what he meant. He repeated that I looked just like my father…James of Ashbury."

His mother's expression became stricken while his father's was stony.

"James…" Ruth's voice was barely a whisper.

"And then," James continued, turning his attention fully to his mother, "he told me that James of Ashbury was married to a woman named Ruth."

All color drained from her face.

"When I asked he informed me that James of Ashbury died thirty years ago this coming fall and his wife, Ruth disappeared toward the end of the winter." He included both of his parents in his gaze. "Around that same time, you, Father, brought Mother here and shortly thereafter married her." His eyes narrowed. "Then David and I were born less than six months after that…"

His parents looked at each other before turning back to him.

"James," his mother began again, her voice a bit stronger.

"I want the truth." James moved forward, closer to them.

"This is pointless," King George snapped, he pushed himself impatiently to his feet, striding over to James and stopping in front of him. "I have raised you and loved you as my son. That is all that matters." He glanced at the Queen and then spun on heel, leaving the room.

The queen and her son remained in silence for several moments.

James lifted his eyes to Ruth. "Mother?"

Ruth took a deep breath and stood, managing to cast her son a smile. "I feel like taking a walk, would you mind escorting me, son?"

He raised an eyebrow but offered his arm to her, which she accepted.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"King George _is_ your father in all the ways that matter, James; as he was to David." Ruth's hand rested on his easily as they made their way leisurely along the beach. "But one."

"He isn't our birth father," James stated.

"No," she quietly confirmed. "Your birth father _was_ James of Ashbury. When he died I didn't even know I was pregnant yet; according to the physician I couldn't have been more than a week or so along."

He gazed at her watchfully. "He never knew he was to be a father."

"No." She shook her head. "It was an accident; the horse he was riding spooked, his neck broke and he died instantly."

James could hear her pain in the tightness of her voice.

"Your birth father was a good man; a farmer and shepherd." She looked up at her son. "And he was the love of my life; my true love."

He looked down at her, a bit surprised.

"The ring I gave you. Your birth father gave it to me; it had been in his family for generations; he always said that true love follows that ring. It was passed from parent to the first child to be married, whether it be to the son to be given to his wife, or the son-in-law to be given to the daughter. But it always stayed with someone of that bloodline."

James pressed a hand to where the ring hung, the small item he intended to give his beloved taking on a whole new meaning.

"When your father died…" She looked down, shaking her head. "A large part of me just wanted to give up and join him. But then…" her head lifted again to gaze at him, love shining in her eyes, "I found out I was pregnant and I knew I could go on; that I could live."

Her son managed a smile, before tilting his head to the side. "How did you come to be…" he wasn't sure how to word what he meant.

"How George and I met?" she offered. At his nod she smiled. "That winter was a hard one; I was already under a great deal of stress because I had no idea how we were going to survive without your father. I didn't know how we were going to get the crop in the ground of the sheep properly cared for; I was sure we would lose the farm." She took a deep breath. "There was a terrible blizzard. Soon after it struck there was a knock on my door, much to my surprise. When I opened it a man stood there; he begged me for shelter for himself and his horse through the storm. Naturally I was wary of agreeing, being a woman alone, but he offered to pay me well for the stay and I couldn't turn down the money. The storm lasted four days; during that time I soon realized that my guest, he'd introduced himself simply as 'George', wasn't a common man. I thought that he might be a well-born merchant, but didn't feel I had the right to pry. One night I was feeling the stress and grief especially and broke down; I ended up telling him everything, all of my problems and my pains. After listening to it all he confided that he had lost his wife less than a year earlier and had been on his way home from one of his many trips that he took to distract himself from missing her. Once the storm broke he thanked and paid me and then left. I never expected to see him again."

"But you did," James prodded.

Ruth nodded. "Indeed. One day, a week or so later, he came riding up to my home, but now there was no mistaking who he was, so you can imagine my shock." She gave him a wry smile. "He told me that he had a proposition. He needed an heir, but since he and his wife were married for several years and never had a child he couldn't be sure the he'd be able to produce one. He proposed that we marry; he would claim my child as his own. He offered me respect and companionship, and for my child to love and raise them as his own. I accepted." She pulled them to a stop, bringing her son to face her. "When you and David were born we were both so _happy_. He was thrilled to not only have one son but two. He kept his promise and loved you both as his own."

"And Thomas?"

"Your father and I weren't in love, but we came to care for each other over time. Thomas is an expression of those feelings."

James turned his head to gaze out at the sea. "I would think he'd want to make it so that his own flesh and blood sat upon his throne."

Ruth tugged on his arm, bringing his attention back to her. "I told you, James, your father loves you and David as his own, always has. He was all the happier to have another son, but even if there had been a way to place Thomas on the throne your father wouldn't have. He's always thought of you and David as his own, regardless of what blood runs in your veins." She continued to look into the tumult raging in her son's eyes. She rose on her toes to gently kiss his cheek. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, my son."

James watched her go until he saw that she was safely back in the castle; he then turned his attention back to the sea, watching the waves rushing in and out. He felt adrift in a storm without an anchor, and he didn't know how to regain his bearings.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James moved silently down the darkened halls. It was the dead of night and the staff, save for the guard, were asleep along with his parents and brother. He felt a twinge of remorse at leaving like he was but he knew that his father wouldn't be too pleased with his intentions and he really didn't need to deal with him at the moment. He had reached the kitchen door and went in.

Thomas and Liam were sitting in chairs at the counter.

He went still. "What are you both doing up?" Trying to discreetly obscure the bag he was carrying from their sights.

"Well," his brother began drolly, "I'm here to wish you a safe journey and to tell you to get back here as soon as you feel ready. And Liam," he turned to the general who was rising from his seat, "is determined to go with you."

The elder prince pressed his lips together. "Neither needs to worry about me." He turned to make his way to the door.

"James, I _know_."

The emphasis Thomas placed on the last word brought James to a dead stop and had him turning to face his now standing younger brother. "Both of you?" his eyes flicked to his general.

"No," Liam denied.

Thomas was also shaking his head. "Mother told me, but I thought it best that you decide whom to tell and how."

James's eyes went to his general who had stepped forward.

"I know that you found out something that has shaken you," his friend stated plainly. "My first loyalty has always been to you, James, not only as my prince, but first, and foremost, as my friend. And I will do what I can to help you now, as your friend."

Thomas stepped forward. "I'm going to see to it that you get the time you need to sort this all out for yourself." He stopped beside his elder brother. "We need you back whole and ready to do what needs to be done."

James raised an eyebrow. "And Mother and Father?"

His younger brother smirked. "Mother'll understand. Father…let me worry about him for once."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then James pulled his brother into a tight hug. "Thank you, Little Brother."

"I'm just trying to make sure that you do what you need to, Big Brother."

They pulled apart. "Take care of yourself," James instructed him sternly.

The younger man nodded. "You do the same."

The young heir of Riverdon then stood back and watched as his brother and the general slipped out the kitchen door and quickly disappeared into the dark. He blew out a breath, glancing at the clock and heading to his room. Tomorrow was going to be a long day; the first of many, because as much as his brother thought he could deal with the revelation on his own, Thomas knew better and was already concocting a plan.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"What do you mean he left?"

Thomas didn't even blink at his father's sharp demand. "James left last night to take some time away to…absorb what he discovered."

In his fist the king clenched the letter from James that Thomas had handed him. "He just _ran off_?"

The prince cast his eyes heavenward, begging for patience. "No, he didn't just 'run off', he's taking the time and space he needs to deal with what he found out. He told you that he'd be back after the solstice." His eyes flicked to his mother, who was sitting off to the side, staring down at her hands, worry lining her face.

George scoffed. "David never –"

"_James_ isn't _David_, Father." Thomas's voice was sharp. "As much as you tend to forget that fact." The young prince's eyes were locked with his father's, not permitting himself to back down. "And don't say that he's being irresponsible or ignoring his responsibilities. That's not possible for James." Thomas moved to stand before his father. "When David died James stepped up to the position placed on him without complaint. Because he loved us he saw to it that we were able to grieve, even at the cost of being able to take that time for himself. Right now, all he's doing is trying to take time, time that he won't have once he's married and on the throne, to get himself sorted out, and getting away so that he can do so without the pressures and constant distractions here."

"Where is he?" George demanded tightly.

His son shrugged. "I don't know. He left with Liam last night, but didn't say where he was going."

The king stalked over to stare out one of the windows.

Silence reigned in the room for several moments.

Finally Thomas broke it. "I'm leaving tomorrow to go to Riverdon for a while, and I'm taking Belle with me."

George frowned at him over his shoulder. "Whatever for?"

"Belle has received a large order of books for the library and I have some matters that I want to attend to there. I'll be back a couple of days before the solstice," he assured his father. The summer solstice was the largest celebration for Seaborn in the entire year, which was a major part of the reason the king had been especially upset at James being gone for it. The elder prince hadn't missed a single one, so while it would be considered odd, most people would be quite willing to forgive the "transgression".

"Must you go so soon?"

Thomas turned to his mother, who was visibly further upset at the announcement of his going. "I'm sorry, Mother, but I must," he told her apologetically.

She nodded, lowering her head once more, obviously worrying over both of her sons.

The prince moved over to take his mother's hand; she looked up at him. "Don't fret, Mother." He gave her a warm smile. "I'll be back soon enough and James won't be gone all that long."

She managed a wan smile, placing a hand against his cheek. "Thank you, my son." She kissed his cheek lovingly. "Go on," she urged.

Thomas cast one last look at his father's stubbornly straight back before leaving the room to finish packing.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, in this chapter we have both Jasmine and Rumple making the scene! They were both so much fun to write! :D I'm going to get to work on the next chapter of **Hot Chocolate** now, but I should be starting on the next chapter of this _very_ soon! :D Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 9: The Calm

I can never say thank you enough to all of the reviews, alerts and faves! I'm sorry that it took longer than usual to get this chapter out! Real life (a.k.a. the thing I do to pay the bills) was really busy the last couple of weeks. But I hope that this chapter is worth the wait. Now, something awesome that happened recently. I was contacted by Jeff and Colleen Roney who do an OUaT fan podcast – their show is awesome by the way and I highly recommend that you guys go check it out! – and they were asked by Malini and Natasha, who have read my OUaT fanfics, to interview me… O.O To say I was shocked and honored is an understatement. First off, thank you so much to Malini and Natasha for requesting such an honor! I agreed to do the interview and it was recorded this past Sat. I'm not sure when they will have it up, but if you're at all interested in any of their show (they have awesome discussions involving listeners via e-mail, voicemail and Twitter, and they've done some great interviews including one with the woman who knit Emma's baby blanket!) you can find them at: onceuponatimepodcast(dot)com and on iTunes.

A huge thank you to **Sassy18** for beta-ing this! :-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 9: The Calm**

Thomas slowed his horse, Orius, to a trot as he approached Everbrook.

When he arrived in Riverdon three days ago he saw to it that Belle was safely and happily ensconced in the library before informing her that he'd be gone for a day or two. Once she'd assured him that she was all right staying there with Hama and Bates, who was still somewhat put-out with James for just disappearing, he'd packed the basics and saddled up Orius.

He turned the horse in the direction of Granny's, knowing that Snow was more likely to be there than at the castle, and even if she wasn't Granny or Red would be able to tell him where to find her.

As luck would have it he found the princess emerging from the woods in the direction of Ella and the dwarfs' home.

"Snow!" he called.

At the sound of his voice she spun, her eyes went wide as they alighted on him. "Thomas."

He brought Orius to a stop beside her and dismounted.

"We hadn't expected you." A warm, welcoming smile spread across her face. "Ella's back home."

Thomas was pleased to see Snow looking _much_ better than when he'd left Everland. "It wasn't precisely planned," he admitted before glancing around at the curious on-lookers. "I actually need to talk to you about something first."

Snow apparently was able to read that he didn't want to have the "discussion" out in public and nodded. "Of course," she gestured in the direction of Granny's, "the kitchen should be fairly empty right now."

He nodded his agreement and followed her to the pub, leading his horse behind him; once there he tied Orius off to the hitching post by the kitchen door.

The kitchen was indeed empty aside from Granny and Lord Henry, who looked at the pair with identical lifted eyebrows.

Snow gave the proprietress and older gentleman one of her sweet, winning smiles. "Granny, Henry, you remember Thomas."

"Indeed," the older woman acknowledged with a raised eyebrow.

"We were hoping to use your kitchen to talk?"

Henry glanced between them, curiosity obvious in his eyes, but he stood, bringing his coffee with him. "I believe I will go outside and enjoy this lovely day."

"Mm," Granny agreed, lifting a bowl of peas to shell. The couple closed the door behind them.

Snow settled down at the kitchen table, looking at the prince expectantly.

Thomas sat down across from her, taking a deep bracing breath. "A few days ago James learned something…distressing."

Her eyes went wide, worry coloring them.

He reached out to place a reassuring hand over hers. "He'll be all right. With time. But I think he really needs you now."

Determination entered her expression. "Where is he?"

Thomas pressed his lips together. "I don't know. I didn't ask because I didn't want to have to lie to mother and father when asked. If I did know I would tell you, but I don't."

She tapped a finger from her free hand on the table as she thought.

"I have a few guesses," he continued, "but I can't be sure."

She bit her lip consideringly before her expression cleared and she sat up straight. "That's all right. I think I know how to find him."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_The Next Evening_

After they finished talking Thomas and Snow had stepped outside to let Henry and Granny know that they were done. The older woman had promptly informed Thomas that he would be attending her birthday celebration the following night, to which he responded the only way he _could_, affirmatively. Thus he was sitting at one of the many tables set out around the common green with a pint in hand and watching the impromptu dance that had begun. Granny and Henry had joined in, looking much spryer than their advanced ages would lead one to believe they'd be.

"Sweet, aren't they?"

He turned his head at the sweet voice that flowed out beside him, unable to help the grin that spread across his face.

A matching smile was on Ella's face as she sat down beside him. She was breathtaking in the simple but lovely blue dress she wore; in her non-work attire she seemed to have joined Snow in favoring light, flowing materials, though her dresses tended to be blue rather than the white that the princess usually wore.

He managed to tear his eyes away from her to watch the dancers once more. "They seem very…close."

Ella laughed softly. "According to Snow and Red, it used to be a big secret but apparently in the last couple of months it's become rather the open secret of the village."

"Why the change?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, no one really seems to, but it's accepted and everyone just doesn't talk about it."

"Do the king and queen know?"

"No, and Snow has been fairly clear on the fact that they are never _to_ know."

Thomas nodded. "Understood."

Ella's eyes flicked to the side before coming back to him. "Speaking of Snow, she's been rather distracted and worried since you arrived yesterday."

He turned his glass on the table, pursing his lips. "It's about James. He received some shocking information and has disappeared to deal with it. I knew that he'd be able to deal with it better if she was with him." Thomas looked up at her inquiringly. "Snow said she'd be able to find him somehow."

A slight frown creased her expression. "I wonder how she's planning to do that."

"You don't have any ideas?" His head canted to the side.

She shook her head negatively. "There are still many things I'm learning about Snow. Red might know; I'll ask her tomorrow."

He "hmm"ed his agreement, turning to look at her watchfully.

Ella bit her lip, cradling her drink in her lap with both hands. "Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" A pleading note threaded her soft voice.

Oh, how he wished he could tell her no. "I should have left today," he told her regretfully. But he hadn't been able to deny himself the excuse to spend more time with her.

Her finger ran around the rim of her glass. "I'll miss you."

Curling a finger under her chin, he lifted her face.

Their eyes searched each other's expressions.

Slowly, haltingly, giving her plenty of time to say no, Thomas leaned his head to hers.

The first touch of their lips was gentle, hesitant; after a moment he pulled back slightly to look at her. Ella's eyes were still closed; she was still leaning toward him, barely breathing. He pressed his lips to hers again, more firmly this time. The contact remained relatively chaste, but testing. They were exploring this, tasting each other, learning what felt right, what felt good.

After several moments they parted, but rested their foreheads together, both of their eyes still closed.

"Why haven't you danced?" he asked in a husky voice.

"Because you haven't asked me." Her voice was soft.

Their eyes opened at almost the same time.

Thomas caressed a thumb over her cheek. "Will you dance with me?"

Her eyes lit up, a smile lifting her lips. "Yes."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Two Days Later_

_Rosewood_

Snow had been relieved to receive Gaspard's prompt reply to the note she'd sent via her blue birds the day after Thomas arrived. He'd confirmed he was at home and available on this day.

She slowed her mare, Aravis, as she approached Rosewood Castle; little Chip came scurrying after the stable hand who had seen her arrival and was hurrying over.

"Princess Snow!" the little boy cried, waving at her enthusiastically.

Snow couldn't have stopped the grin that spread over her face even if she wanted to. Chip was such a joy, a sweet, bright child who charmed all who crossed his path.

"Hello, Chip." The princess knelt down once she was on the ground so that she was eye-level with him.

He was basically dancing around in his excitement. "They said you were coming today, but no one would tell me when; Momma said that you'd be here when you got here, Lumiere I don't think knew, and Cogsworth was just really stuffy and wouldn't answer me." She wasn't sure that he took a single breath throughout that entire narrative.

"Chip!"

They both turned at the call.

Mrs. Potts stood at the top of the front steps, hands on hips but smiling down at them both genially. "No need to be bothering the princess, now. She's here to see the master."

"All right," the boy carried on cheerfully. He looked back up at Snow. "Can you play with me later?"

She gave him a smile. "Maybe. We'll have to see how this goes."

"Ok," he chirped before running off.

The princess looked once more at the older woman.

With a warm smile the housekeeper gestured her inside. "This way, my dear."

Gaspard looked up from his desk when she entered his study; he grinned, nodding to thank Mrs. Potts, who left. He reached over for his cane beside him and used it to help himself to his feet while Snow moved to meet him.

They embraced tightly; he pressed a brotherly kiss to her cheek. "Snow." He led her by the hand to a pair of chairs sitting on either side of a small table set for tea. "Your note said that you had a favor to ask?"

As ever, Snow was grateful for his straightforward manner; that he didn't bother beating around the bush as they settled down for tea.

She watched as he poured the tea into her cup, thanking him. "It's about James." She reached out for her cup and saucer.

Once he'd filled his own cup and had it in hand he looked at her expectantly.

She took a sip. "I need to find him."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is he missing?"

"According to his brother, Thomas, he received some shocking news and disappeared a few days ago," Snow explained. "Thomas came and asked me to find him, said that James needed me."

His blue eyes looked at her watchfully.

Her expression became pleading. "_I need_ to find him. Please," she begged. "Find him for me?"

Gaspard reached over, covering one of her hands with his. "For you," he smiled, "anything."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Having elected to retrieve and saddle Aravis herself, Snow went to the stables.

Standing on a stool and all but hanging his upper body on the door of the stall, Chip was chattering on like a magpie to Aravis while petting the mare. Snow could see the indulgent bow of the horse's head and rather bemused look in Aravis's eyes at the talkative little boy.

"Are you and Aravis having a nice chat?"

Chip turned at her voice and gave her a wide, gap-toothed grin. "She's really nice and a really good listener." He continued to pat the white stripe that graced the horse's otherwise golden face.

Aravis shook her cream-colored mane, whickering a greeting to her mistress.

Snow moved to the mare's other side and began to gently run her hand along her tawny coat. "Indeed she is," she agreed easily.

The boy cocked his head to the side. "Do you talk to her a lot?"

"All the time," the princess confirmed. "Isn't that right, my girl?" she cooed to the mare, who softly and affectionately butted her nose against Snow's stomach. Snow laughed, stroking her hands over the horse's head. "That's my lovely girl."

Chip was watching her with gape-mouthed wonder. "She really understands you."

The dark haired princess grinned at him. "Animals understand a lot more than many humans give them credit for." She leveled an almost-serious gaze at him. "Never forget that, Chip."

He nodded his head vigorously. "I won't!"

She stroked a gentle, fond hand over the top of his sandy hair. "Good." She bent down so that they were eye-level. "Now, how would you like to help me saddle her up?"

He gave her a blindingly bright smile. "Yes!"

"Wonderful." She ruffled his hair affectionately as she straightened back up. "Let's get to it then!"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Three Days Later_

_Riverdon_

To say that Thomas was surprised to receive King Gaspard's letter, requesting for them to talk and if he could stay for a night, would be the understatement of the century. He'd hardly said more than a handful of words to the man ever, so why he would want to be in contact Thomas could not imagine. However, he agreed and when the king's carriage drove up he was waiting outside.

King Gaspard slowly stepped down from the carriage, leaning heavily on his cane. "Prince Thomas."

The prince bowed. "King Gaspard."

The elder man bowed his head. "Gaspard, please." He extended his hand for Thomas to shake.

"Thomas." Thomas accepted the handshake, and then pulled away. "How may I help you, Your Majesty?"

The king leaned easily on his cane. "Well, I'm actually here because a dear friend of mine asked me for help." At Thomas' raised eyebrow he continued, "Snow White."

Both of the prince's eyebrows shot up. That changed and explained everything. He swept his arm toward the main doors. "Please, come in."

Gaspard nodded graciously. "Thank you." He followed his host inside.

Thomas had heard about the young, semi-reclusive king's rumored extensive spy network. It was said that he could find anyone, anything and any information in the realm, even when no one else could. So _that_ had been Snow's plan. "I hadn't realized that you knew Snow."

Keeping pace with the prince's stride the elder man nodded. "Since she was born, our mothers were close friends. She's the sister I never had."

"I take it she told you the situation?"

"Enough of it. All I really care is that it matters to her."

Nodding slowly, Thomas accepted the answer, seeing in the words that the king felt the same way about Snow that Thomas and James felt for Belle. "How can I help?"

Gaspard looked at him levelly. "I have a few questions for you about your brother. Once I have those answers I should be able to find him."

Thomas nodded and gestured to his study. "We can talk in here."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Belle was in her element rebuilding the Riverdon library. She had always loved books; truthfully she found the world of books to be kinder and more accepting than most people in reality. Her father, James, Thomas, Liam, Hama, Bates, Queen Ruth, Jasmine and even Prince Phillip were exceptions to this; always treating her with respect and care. But outside of this small circle of people her only friends were books. It was late in the evening, well after dinner, which she had missed because she had lost track of time. She was returning to her sanctuary from the kitchens where she had charmed the cook into giving her some of the leftovers.

The staff had been abuzz over the visitor who'd arrived, King Gaspard of Rosewood. Belle had unobtrusively eavesdropped on the gossip about the young king as she at. Some of them had gasped over the man's badly scarred visage, but others had turned around and quickly scolded them. They pointed out that the man had been nothing but kind and respectful since his arrival. Belle had heard much over the years about King Gaspard, she naturally knew his history – who didn't? – she had also quietly longed for the chance to visit his library – the largest and most extensive in existance – and been almost equally desirous to see his rose gardens – rumored to be the loveliest ever seen. She had also heard tales that the man had the largest spy network in the realm, with eyes and ears everywhere. It was said that nothing happened anywhere that he wasn't aware of within a day or two. However, she also knew that people tended to exaggerate when telling tales, so she took this all with a grain of salt.

It was late enough that she didn't expect there to be anyone in the library.

But there was.

He was tall, taller than James; even though he was obviously forced to lean a portion of his weight on the ornate cane he had, he still kept his posture as straight and tall as possible. She could only imagine the hard work and time he'd put into being able to stand as upright as he did, with little to no bend in his body from his need of the cane's support. He cut an impressive, proud figure that radiated control, he was a man who knew his power and wore it with ease.

But at the same time, there was something quiet and calming about his presence that soothed any unease she might've felt at being in the presence of a strange man. From her position she could see only the right side of his face. One scar cut a long line from temple to jaw and another shorter one slashed viciously from just below his eye, down his cheek to split his lips, while a third appeared to originate somewhere near his hairline on the left side of his face and streaked across his forehead to cut through his right eyebrow and ended just before reaching his eyelid. The scars were perhaps shocking to some, but Belle couldn't help the way her heart skipped a beat the first time she laid eyes on King Gaspard.

She swallowed and took a deep, calming breath, trying to bring her pounding pulse under control. "May I help you, Your Majesty?"

He turned to her.

When his deep blue eyes met her brown ones it was all she could do to keep breathing. She managed to notice that the third scar actually disappeared into his hairline just above his temple; a cluster of scars at the corner of his left eye twisted the flesh of his cheek and eyelid, nearly pulling it shut, and a scar ran jaggedly from the left side of his chin down across his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. Yes, the scars could indeed be called shocking, but that didn't stop her heart from racing and the instant attraction she felt spring up for him.

When was the last time she'd been truly attracted to a man? Had she _ever_ been? She'd honestly thought that part of her had died after what Gaston had done. Even though the ever rational part of her mind was telling her that she should be terrified or even worried about the fact that she was so irrationally and immediately interested in a man she'd never met before, she couldn't silence her heart which told her that she could trust this man. Nor could she ignore the part of her that found the young king so achingly familiar and welcome. She hugged her book tighter to her chest, sure that he could at least see, if not hear, her heart pounding in her breast.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Gaspard had heard of Belle of Seaborn, the royal librarian. That she was brilliant, quiet and had a great love of books. He'd also heard how very beautiful she was, but it hadn't prepared him to be faced with the reality of it. She was petite, not even reaching his shoulder; she had a delicacy about her in the fineness of her bone structure and pale skin. Her eyes were a soft, lovely brown, shining with intelligence…and they didn't flicker from him even for a moment. They were wide with surprise, but not shock or disgust, a rarity for him who was so used to seeing horror on people's faces at seeing him and their averted gazes in an attempt, they believed, at not making him feel uncomfortable…though he knew it was to help their own discomfort. Her gaze never wavered, meeting his easily without any give in her stare.

His heart raced. When was the last time a woman – other than Snow, Red and Aurora, and even Ella – could look at him so directly without any discomfort or disgust? Never…not since the accident, and at that age he wasn't really old enough to care about what women thought of him. He had never dreamed that any woman would look at him like that, much less a woman of such great beauty – not just body but mind and soul as well – and intelligence. He had to concentrate to control his breathing, trying to slow his galloping pulse.

His usually acute mind finally caught up with her posed question and he cleared his throat. "I don't mean to disturb you. As you apparently know, I am King Gaspard of Rosewood."

She curtseyed. "I am honored to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Belle of Seaborn. And you are not disturbing me." She gestured with her arm around them at the partially-filled shelves, piles of books and half-empty crates. "Books are for all."

"I agree." Gaspard nodded, running a loving hand over the books' spines. "You have done an incredible job here." He looked around them. "I have heard how depleted the Riverdon Library was."

The librarian joined him in admiring all of her work so far, a proud grin lighting her face. "I was very flattered when Thomas requested that I do this."

His eyes moved over her form. "From what I have heard there's no one better to do the job; that you've done wonders for the organization of the Seaborn library."

She blushed, looking down. "Thank you."

"I don't believe in giving compliments to those who don't deserve them." He gave her a wry grin when she lifted her head. "I don't have the guile or tact for it."

Belle bit her lip, stepping closer. "I have heard," she began tentatively, "that your kingdom's library is the largest in the realm."

He smiled warmly at her. "As far as I know that is still true. My father was particularly avid in his adding to the collection." He knew that pride for his father's accomplishment colored his tone.

"It must be an incredible sight." She mused softly, unable to tear her eyes from his.

His eyes were locked with hers, gazing into them admiringly. "Indeed," he agreed quietly, his voice almost lost in the silence of the library.

Her breath was coming faster.

There was a clatter in the hall outside the doors.

Belle's eyes snapped down to the floor, color flooding her cheeks.

Gaspard cleared his throat, tapping his cane. "Perhaps, someday, you'll be able to come and see our library in Rosewood."

Her head lifted again with a gasp. "Really?"

He met her gaze again. "I would be most happy to have you come."

A smile hesitantly grew across her face. "I would like that."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Several Days Later_

_Everland_

It was a struggle for Snow to maintain a calm, demure façade as she greeted Gaspard with her father and stepmother. The only reason he would've stopped in Everland for the night was that he'd found James. Her father, who had always liked Gaspard, shook her friend's hand warmly, Clara was smiling thinly as she allowed the young king to bow over her hand; Snow took both of his hands, kissing his cheek with a bright smile. When she pulled back he gave her a reassuring smile and firm nod, confirming what she'd known. He'd found him. Now the question became how she was going to be able to wait until they could speak alone.

It ended up not taking too long. They chatted over tea for an hour before Gaspard requested that Snow show him their roses, which she happily agreed to.

"Where is he?" she asked desperately once she was sure there was no one around.

He led her to sit on a bench, settling himself next to her. "Where is the one place a royal can hide in plain sight?" He raised a wry eyebrow.

Her expression was confused for a moment, but understanding dawned quickly. "Lochdubh."

"Indeed," he nodded. "That isn't all."

She tilted her head inquiringly.

He leaned both of his hands on his cane. "Apparently his family shares a close, old friend there with your family and mine."

Her eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Gaspard nodded. "He's staying with him."

Snow bit her lip, staring out over the gardens.

"A problem?" he asked.

She tucked a dark curl behind her ear. "He's the only one I know well enough in Lochdubh to stay with. And since there's no inn…"

"Hmm." He joined her contemplation.

The crunch of gravel on the path drew both of their attention.

"Pardon me if I'm interrupting."

"Not at all, Henry," Snow assured her surrogate grandfather.

"Lord Henry." Gaspard bowed his head respectfully to the older man.

Henry bowed back. "King Gaspard." He moved closer to them. "I heard you mention Lochdubh."

The pair glanced at each other and then looked back at Henry.

Snow decided to tell him the excuse she'd been planning to use upon finding out where James was as the reason for why she was going. "I was thinking about going to Lochdubh for the solstice, perhaps with Red and Ella, but there's nowhere that we can stay."

He smiled quite brightly. "Well, I have a solution for that. I have a cottage in Lochdubh."

"A cottage." Snow's eyes widened slightly. "I didn't know you had property in Lochdubh."

"It's a recent acquisition," he told her dismissively. Then his expression became pointed. "One that I would like to keep between us."

The princess bit her lip, eyes cutting to Gaspard, who was coughing lightly into his fist.

"Your secret is safe with us, Henry," Snow promised; Gaspard nodded his agreement.

"Wonderful." He smiled pleasantly. "Well, if you need a place to stay, I'm happy to let you stay there."

She bit her lip. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." A knowing look was in his eyes. "The solstice in Lochdubh is quite a wonderful celebration."

_He knew._ Had probably heard them talking. Snow gave him a grateful smile, standing and kissing the older man on the cheek. "Thank you, Henry."

He patted her hand. "You're most welcome, my dear."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The next morning when bidding goodbye to Gaspard, Snow kissed him on the cheek and thanked him quietly, but fervently. He had kissed her cheek in return and told her, "It was my pleasure. I just want you happy." With a final brotherly kiss to her forehead he bid her a fond farewell and boarded his carriage.

Snow had then all but bolted to the village in search of Red and Ella; thankfully she found them both occupied with mending in the Granny's kitchen.

Upon Snow's rushed explanation of what she wanted to do, Red quirked an eyebrow and smirkingly agreed.

Ella bit her lip. "I'm not sure I can take the time off."

Red rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't you worry. All Snow has to do is look at the dwarfs and they'll fall all over themselves to do as she wishes."

The princess leveled her friend with a look.

"You _know_ it's true," the younger woman countered sardonically.

Snow rolled her eyes.

"What _is_ Lochdubh?" Ella cut in before their exchange could degenerate into an argument.

Both dark-haired women glanced at her and then back at each other with near-identical grins.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Lochdubh was a small, coastal village on the edge of Seaborn. It had a small handful of the requisite fishermen, a couple of farms and a few merchants, but what it was known for was the large number of artists and craftsmen that lived there; they made up the majority of the population. It was a place outside of the social norms, where certain strictures were basically nonexistent; it made even Everland look straight-laced. But it was also a rather closed society. If you were a member of their community or a close friend of a member and had been "vouched for" you were "one of them" and they would treat you exactly the same as they would anyone, regardless of rank or position. If you were an "outsider" you would likely be treated as "befitted" your "station"…and entirely closed off from the community. Some royals, who had friends among the people there, had been known to stay in the village where they would be treated as a commoner, and should anyone come looking for them, the villagers would deny any knowledge of their whereabouts, protecting their privacy.

It was one of Snow's favorite places in the world, and one of her stepmother's least favorite.

She and her two friends had opted to take only what they could carry on horseback and no servants, preferring to keep their presence as small and quiet as possible. They were wending their way down what they were fairly sure was the last stretch of road before they reached the cottage.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Red called from her position a bit behind Snow, who was leading the way.

The princess rolled her eyes. "It has only been a year since I was in Lochdubh last, I know my way _very_ well. And according to Henry's directions, it should be at the end of this lane."

As if conjured by her words, when they turned the next bend a fairly sprawling house, with the beach just beyond was revealed. All three women pulled to a stop in front of the building, each of their jaws unhinged.

"I thought you said it was a 'cottage,'" Ella asked faintly.

"That's what Henry called it," Snow confirmed, her gaze running over the one-story, rambling house.

Red was gaping. "Why on _Earth_ did Henry buy so large a house?"

Snow had recovered enough to toss her friend a sardonic look before dismounting. "Why does Henry do _half_ the things he does?" Her friends followed her example and they began leading their horses in the direction of the stable. "The man's reasons are sometimes quite inscrutable."

"True," the dark-haired younger woman agreed.

Henry had seen to it that plenty of hay and oats, along with some food in the kitchen, already awaited them. Once their horses were settled, they ventured into the house. It turned out to have five bedrooms, a sitting room, kitchen, dining room, and a porch that wrapped around the entire house, with doors onto it from every room. It was a very light and airy place with many windows. They each selected a room with no fuss on any of their parts about who went where.

Upon dropping her bags in her room, Snow all but ran out again.

"Snow!" Red called after her.

"Don't worry about my things!" she called to them over her shoulder. "I'll take care of them when I return!" She tossed a wave at them without looking back.

The dark-haired woman gave an exasperated sigh.

"Did you really expect her to wait any longer to go find him?" Ella asked, laughter threading her voice.

Red cocked a wry eyebrow at her. "Not really, but that doesn't make it any less troubling to have her just running off like that."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow hurried her way through the woods to the town; once there, she hardly slowed her pace at all. She absently returned a few greetings that were thrown her way, too engrossed in reaching her destination to really pay attention.

With the clear, warm weather most of the craftsmen and artists had taken their work outside to enjoy the lovely summer days. Upon reaching the shop/home she wasn't surprised to see the proprietor sitting on a bench, sipping what appeared to be some type of fresh juice, and carving a design into what appeared to be a sign.

"Geppetto!"

The woodworker's head lifted at her joyous call and his eyes lit up in recognition. He dropped his tools and moved to meet her. "Principessa!" he greeted her warmly, accepting her hug. Geppetto pulled back slightly to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "I take it you're here simply as 'Snow'?" he inquired softly.

Her eyes sparkled with humor. "Indeed." She bit her lip and then opened her mouth to ask the question that was burning in her.

"He's out for a walk," he told her, anticipating what she was going to ask.

"Where?" she begged.

His eyes twinkled. "You remember that little cove you've always loved?"

Her smile grew; she quickly pecked his cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Principessa."

Just before she darted away she noticed a blond, clean-shaven man munching on an apple not far from where Geppetto had been working, watching her with a pair of clear blue eyes under raised eyebrows. She tossed the man a quick smile and hurried off again.

She had a Prince Charming to find.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Liam took a bite of his apple as he watched the young woman hurry off; he stood and moved over to where Geppetto had returned to his work. "Do you have a young lady friend that we're not aware of, Geppetto?" he teased the older man.

The woodworker gave a laugh, shaking his head at the young general. "No indeed. And you'd be doing her a disservice to imply any such thing." He leveled a semi-stern look at Liam.

The general gave him a grin before looking back in the direction that the young woman had gone. "Pretty girl," he mused.

"Quite possibly the fairest you'll ever see," the older man agreed, but then gave him a pointed look. "And quite taken."

"Pity," Liam told him with a somewhat wolfish grin before laughing it off. "Nah, she's lovely, but not my type." He took another bite of the apple. "She's too sweet. I like my women with a bit more spit and vinegar."

Geppetto chuckled softly, going back to working on the milliner's new sign. "Well, we'll see what you have to say after you meet her."

Smirking, he nodded. "I suppose we will."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow dashed through the woods to the cove she had found as a child. She supposed that it was odd that she liked it so well, considering that the first time she found it she nearly died when she fell off the rocks and almost drowned, but for some reason she liked the secluded place.

When she emerged from the trees and was gazing over the beach, her heart caught in her throat. There he was. Her James. Her Prince Charming.

He was sitting on the beach in a loose, deep blue tunic, dark brown work breeches and well-worn boots. He was staring out over the water toward the horizon.

Her heart was already racing in her chest at finally seeing him again, at having him so close. She took several slow breaths before bending down, slipping off her shoes and taking them in her hand. On slightly unsteady legs she began to make her way toward him.

She gulped in a breath. "I thought _you_ were the one who was supposed to find _me_?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had been taking walks every day since arriving in Lochdubh, enjoying the chance to be able to do so without people constantly watching or staring at him. It was what he enjoyed about the community; he could come here and be treated like any other man, not have to deal with the constant pressures and expectations of being a prince. It had been somewhat helpful over the last few days, the peace, in dealing with the upheaval in his life. But at the same time being so far from his family and his home made it harder too. He still felt adrift in a storm without a compass, or any sort of anchor or mooring, and he wasn't sure how to even begin to get those lost bearings back even over a week after finding out the truth of his parentage.

The warm, salty breeze slightly ruffled his short hair, causing the loose sleeves of his shirt to ripple like the surface of an otherwise still pond.

"I thought _you_ were the one who was supposed to find _me_?"

His raging thoughts silenced for a moment; everything in him went still at that sweet, lyrical cadence. James half-believed he was just imagining things; that if he turned he would see nothing and the momentary illusion would be shattered. But he couldn't have stopped himself from looking for anything, on the off-chance that it wasn't just his imagination.

She actually _looked_ like a dream; long, dark curls tousled from the wind; her eyes sparkling brightly at him. She was wearing one of her usual long, white dresses of a thin, flowing material. She'd gathered a handful of the skirt in one hand, holding it above her ankles as she approached him barefooted, her shoes dangling from the fingers of her other hand.

"Snow," he breathed.

Her smile was like a ray of the sun. "Hello, Charming."

James was on his feet and had scooped her up in his arms little more than a heartbeat later. Her arms wound around his neck, holding on tightly while he spun them both around. "You came." He repeated it over and over, his tone full of wonder.

The instant he had her against him with her arms wrapped around him it was like someone had thrown him mooring lines and he'd finally found safe harbor. _Snow _was his safe harbor, his rock. He breathed in her warm, sweet scent; it eased the storm in him, steadied him. He'd stopped spinning them and lowered her to the sand, but hadn't eased his hold on her in the slightest, partially afraid that if he did she'd vanish from him and he'd be lost once more.

"You know, Charming," she whispered in his ear a little teasingly, "I'm not just going to disappear if you let go."

"I'm not quite ready to release you and test that theory." His voice was slightly muffled from his face being pressed into her hair.

"Well, do you mind if we sit down at least? I've been riding the last two days and ran here from town. I'm a bit tired and could use a rest."

"I think I can manage that." He pulled away enough so that he could sit down while still maintaining a hold on her. She began to settle herself beside him, but soon found herself pulled across his lap and cradled sideways against his chest. She didn't protest in the slightest.

"How did you find me?" he questioned, his lips brushing against her curls.

"First, your brother came to Everland a few days ago and told me that you had discovered some information that disturbed you and that you had left to sort it all out." She leaned her head back to look up at him.

He returned her gaze with a raised eyebrow. "As far as I know Thomas didn't know where I am."

"He didn't," she confirmed. "I'm fairly certain that he still doesn't." Her fingers ran up and down the arm wrapped around her waist. "There are certain advantages to being the surrogate little sister of King Gaspard."

James gave a wordless "ah", nodding for her to continue.

"Upon my request, Gaspard gathered information to your possible whereabouts, including asking your brother a few questions. He came here," she glanced around them, "to Lochdubh," she looked back up at him, "to confirm with Geppetto the fact that you were here." Reaching up she stroked her fingers down the side of his face. "Then he came and told me where you were… And here I am."

He bent his head down to rest his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for coming."

Her thumb feathered across the scar on his chin. "Where else could I be?"

_His_ Snow. How could he have expected any other answer from her?

Her worried eyes gazed into his. "Want to tell me what upset you so much?"

He gave a weary sigh, letting his head fall forward slightly. "For today at least can I just enjoy having you here, in my arms again?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You _will_ tell me tomorrow."

Pressing his forehead to hers, he looked her directly in the eyes. "Yes. I promise." James wasn't keen on telling her what he had learned – nor was he particularly eager for the argument to come once he explained why he left Riverdon so suddenly – but he knew he needed to and he was a man of his word. He held her tighter to him. "We will talk about everything, but just for now, I need to hold you."

With a warm smile she gently tapped a finger against the scar. "All right." She rubbed her nose against his and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, pulling away before he could return the kiss. "I missed you too, Charming," she told him teasingly.

One of his hands slid up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking delicately over the skin. "Snow…"

Her eyes dropped to his lips thoughtfully. "Hmm?" They rose again to meet his, full of promise.

He let out a groan and ducked his head down to take possession of her lips.

One of Snow's hands fisted in his shirt and the other gripped his shoulder, pulling him even closer; James' arm around her waist pulled her tighter to him while his hand on her cheek tunneled into her long locks.

It was all too easy to lose himself in their passion and love for each other. Having her with him was like coming home in a way that not even Seaborn Castle – the only home he'd ever known – had ever been.

"People are going to wonder where we are," he murmured against her lips, though he made no move to separate from her.

"Mm," she confirmed, pressing small kisses along his jaw. "We should head back."

Using his hand that was threaded through her hair he gently urged her to tilt her head back, exposing the column of her throat to his open-mouthed kisses. "In a little while," he breathed against her pulse.

One of Snow's hands slid up to the back of his neck, urging him on in his ministrations. "Yes," she agreed, her voice more of a moan, "in a little while…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was more than a _little while_ before they managed to pull apart and finally head toward Henry's cottage. The whole time James made sure that he had physical contact with her in some way; holding her hand the entire walk. Snow rolled her eyes at him, but she hadn't protested in the least and frequently moved closer to him and initiated many gestures herself.

When they reached the cottage Ella had greeted him warmly with a hug while Red had smirked at him before granting him an embrace as well. They then all headed into the kitchen where they settled around the table for glasses of juice.

"The woodcutter's son stopped by with the last load of firewood for the kitchen," Red informed the couple as she finished pouring herself a glass, "he said that there was one of the community bonfires tonight."

James nodded as he took a few gulps from his glass, only now realizing that he was quite thirsty. "Yes, there is."

Snow grinned brightly. "Wonderful! I haven't been to one of the bonfires here in years."

"Do they have them frequently in Lochdubh?" Ella questioned the other three as she lifted her glass.

"_Many_ during the summer months," the princess confirmed.

"They're very communal here," Red explained, "and the warm weather is just all the more reason for them to gather together."

"You'll enjoy it, Ella," James assured her, smiling.

"Well then," she began jauntily, "I look forward to it."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Geppetto's head was bent over a rocking horse he was putting the finishing touches on when Snow's lyrical voice called out to him bringing his head up. This time she wasn't alone, and the sight brought a smile to his face.

Her fingers were intertwined with James' and the prince was wearing the first genuine smile that the woodworker had seen on his face since his arrival. Snow was glowing with joy, pressing close to her beloved's side. With them was also Red, whose eyes shone with as much humor and mischief as ever, and beside her was a blonde who appeared to be a year or two younger than Red, with a sweet smile and bright eyes.

The craftsman raised his hand in greeting, setting down his tools and wiping the wood polish off of his hands as they came up. "Principessa." He smiled warmly as Snow rose on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

He pressed a kiss of his own to her forehead. "Thank _you_," he softly corrected, cutting his eyes meaningfully to James.

Her eyes sparkled happily as they turned to the man beside her who gazed down at her with as much joy and adoration. Never in all of the years Geppetto had known the prince and princess, and he'd known them both all of their lives, had he ever seen them so happy. Yes, he decided, they were well matched.

James managed to tear his eyes away from Snow to grin wryly at the older man. "I hear that you were in on this little 'surprise.'"

Geppetto chuckled lightly. "Oh, I played but a small role…"

Snow smothered a laugh into the prince's shoulder.

The younger man raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

The craftsman turned his amused gaze to the younger of the two dark-haired women. "Redelle, how is your grandmother?"

The young woman embraced Geppetto. "She's very well, keeping everyone else as much on their toes as ever."

"As it should be," the man told her approvingly before finally turning to the final member of the group, and the only face that was unfamiliar to him. "And who might this be?"

Snow and Red urged the young woman forward. "Geppetto, this is Ella De Barbarac," the princess introduced. "Ella, this is the greatest craftsman you'll ever meet, Geppetto of Lochdubh."

Geppetto smiled at the princess. "That is very sweet of you to say, Principessa."

"She only speaks the truth," James countered. He then leaned down slightly to speak in a faux covert tone to Ella. "I could swear that there's _nothing_ this man can't make."

"I do not believe I have blushed this much since I was a lad," the woodworker commented mildly.

"Don't let him fool you." Red smirkd at Geppetto while speaking to Ella. "He is every bit as great an artisan as they are telling you."

The older man rolled his eyes skyward and tossed his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

Ella had been watching the interaction with great interest, always eager to learn more about her friends. She extended a hand to Geppetto. "It is an honor to meet you, Master Geppetto."

The older man bowed over her hand. "The honor is all mine, Mistress Ella. Principe James has spoken highly of you."

She grinned at the aforementioned prince. "Well, he has my thanks."

James shook his head ruefully. "I'm going to stop this right there before this all gets turned on me." He turned his attention solely to Geppetto. "Where's Liam?"

"He was getting nervous with you gone so long, so I sent him to deliver an item for me to keep him occupied."

The prince smirked, laughter bright in his eyes. "Actually managed to get on your nerves, did he?"

The woodworker shrugged. "Even _I_ have my limits," he admitted easily.

James chuckled.

Movement just over the younger people's shoulders caught Geppetto's eye. "But I believe it is about to become your problem anyway."

After only a momentary flicker of question on his face the prince winced, and then slowly turned to face his approaching general, who didn't look all that pleased.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Liam was simultaneously relieved and annoyed at seeing his prince safe and sound, talking with Geppetto and three women. The whole group turned at his approach but his attention remained on his liege lord, whom he had every intention to, without creating too much of a scene, inform just how little he liked having him disappear for so long without a word.

"Liam, allow me to introduce some friends of mine," James said before Liam could speak.

The general gritted his teeth, knowing with those words that now was not the time or the place to voice his displeasure at the prince, so he turned his attention to the three women whom James had gestured toward.

The first his gaze went to was the woman directly next to the prince; the woman who had stopped by the shop earlier and spoken briefly to Geppetto.

James, holding her hand and looking at her with an expression that Liam could only term as complete and utter adoration, brought her forward a bit. "This is Princess Snow White."

With that name the look on James's face was explained.

His prince had continued to dodge Liam and Phillip's continued inquiries about the Everland Princess, even though they knew he'd seen her while in Riverdon. And Thomas hadn't been overly forthcoming with information either, though Liam suspected that part of the reason the younger prince hadn't said anything was because James knew something about him in return and, through a tacit agreement, neither was revealing _anything_. But Liam had still been able to glean quite a bit from subtle, and some none-too-subtle, hints that were dropped, and bits and pieces of information he picked up from Bates and Hama. This much the general knew: The prince had _very_ strong feelings for the princess – more than confirmed by the look in his eyes just now – James intended to court her – probably had already quietly begun to do so from the looks the couple exchanged – and something had happened in Riverdon between them that not even Thomas seemed to know the full extent of.

As Liam now looked the princess up and down, he agreed with his original assessment of her, she was sweet and lovely, with innate goodness that matched James', and a gentleness that could draw one in so easily. Oh, he could see what attracted his prince's attention; according to James' own words after meeting her for the first time, she had a sharp mind, wit and tongue as well, but Liam would have to wait and see this for himself.

He bowed to her respectfully. "Your Majesty."

The princess rolled her eyes, waving her hand. "Please, it's just Snow, especially _here_ of all places."

"Very well," he agreed. Her relaxed demeanor told him that her personality and style of ruling would likely blend well with James'; a positive mark for her on that front.

She turned to the two women with her. "These are two of my closest friends." She gestured first to the blonde. "This is Ella De Barbarac."

She was very young and sweet looking, perhaps not quite as confident as her companions, but he was left with the impression of a woman who was quickly coming into her own. She had a very honest face, and seemed to radiate an injured innocence; she'd been hurt badly but still hung onto hope. All in all, not Liam's type in the least, but she still sparked his curiosity to learn more about her and see what she would become once she fully knew herself.

"And this is Redelle of Everbrook."

Beautiful wasn't the word for her, she was _stunning_.

Her coloring was very similar to Snow's; long dark curls, though these seemed looser and sleeker than the princess', she had large, light hazel eyes, not quite as green as Snow's, more brown. Her face was very finely boned, with high cheekbones and a well-defined, graceful jaw. He would have described the princess as soft and warm; this young woman was sharp and fiery. The shrewd intelligence and sass glinting in her eyes caught and held him. How he hoped that he was controlling the smirk that wanted to cross his face, because by the flash of interest and annoyance in her gaze, she'd read it in his eyes. She lifted her chin slightly in defiant challenge.

Oh, this was going to be fun…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So was it just me or were your general and my best friend taking an interest in each other?" Snow tilted her head back to look up at James, who was reclined behind her against a log with her sitting in front of him, her back to his chest; their legs intertwined and arms locked around her waist. Had they been anywhere else but Lochdubh they would have never dared sit so, but the rules of propriety and social norms were quite different here, and for the most part people just turned a blind eye.

The bonfire was streaking high into the glittering night sky a few feet from them. There was no set meal time, per se, and some people were still picking over the spread on the tables. A few musicians had pulled out their instruments and were picking over tunes, everyone else singing along to the ones they knew. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly; everyone was just having a good time.

James dropped his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I noticed that as well." Humor lit his tone. "I got the feeling they were also challenging each other."

Snow laughed softly. "That sounds like Red."

"Mm. That sounds like Liam." His gaze went to the fire. "When he isn't being the consummate general, he has a wicked sense of humor and enjoys winding people up."

She smirked. "It will be interesting to see how he stands up to Red."

He chuckled. "If they don't end up killing each other, I think they could be good for one another."

She giggled, and at his inquiring look explained, "Not that long ago Red was just telling Ella and I how she had no interest in falling in love." She lifted her eyes up to his.

His smile was tender. "It never finds you when you expect."

"No, it doesn't," she agreed.

They just gazed at each other contentedly for several moments.

She traced the lines of his fingers over the back of his hand with hers. "Tell me the story of your kingdom."

"'The story of my kingdom?'" he asked amusedly.

"Every kingdom has a story as to how it began." She shifted so that she was sideways in his arms and could look at him more easily. "I told you the story of mine. What's yours?"

A grin spread across his lips. "All right." James glanced at the ground around him and, upon seeing what he was looking for, reached for one of the many rocks that littered the beach and held it out to her. "Do you know what this rock is?"

She shrugged, turning the smooth, spangled rock in her hands. "No, but I have seen a great many of them around here on the beaches."

"It is a rock found nowhere else but on the beaches of Seaborn. It is called _Verum Aquilonem_." He tossed her a teasing look. "So how is _your_ Latin, Princess?"

Snow pursed her lips. "Horrendous," she informed him easily. "But I do remember enough to know that _verum_ means 'true' and thanks to the compass in the gardens back home I know that _aquilonem_ means 'north.'"

"Correct," he nodded to the rock in her hands. "That is known as _True North_."

A frown furrowed her brow. "And you thought it odd that we called our flower _Tears of the Moon_." She settled against him. "I take it there's a good reason it's called that?"

"Mm," he confirmed, reaching out to trace a finger over the lines in the rock's surface. "See these marks?"

"Mm-hmm."

"They're fracture lines," he sat up, prompting her to do the same, and reached into the collar of his shirt for the leather cord that hung around his neck, "if you break the rock along them," he pulled the cord and its pendent over his head and placed the pendent in his palm to show to her, "this is what you get."

Snow lifted the circular, disk-like pendent into her hands, running her thumb over the polished, flat surfaces. "This is a sliver of that stone?"

He nodded and reached over to adjust her grip on it. "Hold it up to the moon."

She eyed him but allowed him to guide her hand up so that the center was over the waning moon.

She gasped. "Oh!" The pure white light of the moon shone through the crystalline stone; the center was clear and in the shape of a multi-pointed star surrounded by an ocean blue color, mottled with blood red and flecks of silver. "It's beautiful!"

James sat back, gazing at her with a smile, enjoying her reaction. "It is."

She turned back to him, lowering her hand. "What is the story?"

He extended his arm to the side, inviting her to settle back against his side, which she did. He let his fingers graze along her upper arm as he began to tell her the legend of his kingdom.

"It is called the _Legend of Seaborn_, but it is also known by the name _Legend of the Sea_. It is about the god of the sea." He turned his eyes expectantly to the woman in his arms, who grinned up at him impishly, closing her mouth with an audible click of her teeth. She gave a half-smothered giggle while he shook his head and continued his narration. "The sea god had a lover, a goddess; they say that the pair was very much in love. Then one day a being said to be either an imp, mischievous spirit or meddling god, decided to play with the couple's love for each other." His gaze went to Snow's face; her jaw had fallen open and she was sitting up to look at him fully. "He cast a spell on the god, tricking him into sleeping with a mortal woman."

"His lover…the _moon goddess_ found them and…" she continued.

James nodded. "After the goddess slept with another man and became pregnant by that affair, the sea god became enraged. They say that the storm and raging seas that resulted from his wrath brought down hundreds of ships, killing many sailors. The other gods, in their horror, separated the lovers for all time.

"The sea god decided to spend some time travelling the seas, hoping to put time and distance between himself and his pain. He found a man clinging to a rock, the lone survivor of one of the ships wrecked in the god's wrath. The god heard the man quietly begging of any deity who would listen for his life and for the first time the god was faced with the reality of the pain he had inflicted on the mortals. Moved by guilt and pity, the sea god manifested himself in a small boat as a human and rescued the man.

As they made their way to the man's home port, the god learned that the man was a simple fisherman who was newly married. The man explained how the woman he loved had run away from her home village after discovering she was pregnant by an unknown man, knowing that if she stayed at best she would be ostracized. The fisherman met her along the shore one day and fell in love with her; he hadn't cared that she was pregnant with another man's child and he married her. They were now raising her son together. The sea god was surprised at the love and pride in the man's voice as he spoke of his adopted infant son; at the man's great love and compassion. How petty and low the god felt in comparison.

"When they finally arrived at the man's home they were greeted by his wife who was overjoyed at seeing her husband alive and well. The sea god though was shocked to realize that the woman who was embracing the fisherman was the very woman he had been tricked into sleeping with, and the child in her arms was his. Having been bewitched herself when they slept together the woman didn't recognize the god and welcomed him warmly as her husband's savior. The god knew he could not raise his child himself, nor did he feel he would deserve to if he could, but he felt that he should do something for his son, the woman he had wronged and the man honorable enough to love and care for them both.

"The god revealed himself to the family, much to their shock. He did not tell them that he was the one the woman had slept with nor that he was the child's father, only that he wanted to grant them his favor and to make amends for the pain and devastation his raging had caused. He made them rulers of a kingdom that contained most of the sea-side land; he created within that land the best ports and harbors, along with the most plentiful fishing. He promised to always protect their kingdom and see to it that their fishing remained fruitful forever."

She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "The second half of the story," she mused. "That was why you became so intrigued as I told you the legend of my kingdom."

James nodded. "Yes." He gazed at her with a smirk.

She held up the pendent in her hands. "And _Verum Aquilonem_?"

He pointed to the center where the star was. "According to legend, and sworn to by sailors, if you line up the star with the moon at its zenith along with aligning the sliver flecks with certain stars you can use this to find _'True North'_ and by the patterns in the stone find your way to safe port."

"And this is true of _all_ _Verum Aquilonem_?"

"It is."

Snow traced a finger over the patterns which were just barely discernible in the dark. "I understand the blue, for the sea, but why the red?" She looked at him.

"Actually, it is said that the blue is the sea god's tears of remorse and mourning," he corrected. "The red is the blood of the men his rage killed, so that the loss of their lives is forever remembered."

Nodding her understanding, she lifted the pendent once more to the moon. "It reminds me of stained glass."

James turned his eyes from watching her to join her in looking at the pendent; he canted his head in contemplation. "I'd never really thought about it but you're right. It does resemble a stained glass window a bit."

Still looking at the pendent, a flash from the other end of the cord caught Snow's eye and she tilted her head to see what it was. Frowning, she lowered the glittering object to rest in her other palm.

James noticed the shift in her attention and the moment he saw what lay in the center of her hand, his heart slammed into his throat. He'd worn the pendent since his mother gave it to him as a boy, David and Thomas had matching ones; it was only since he returned from Everland that he strung his mother's ring on the cord as well, and in his distraction he'd forgotten it was on there.

Snow took the ring between her thumb and forefinger, looking at it curiously before switching her gaze to him. "What's this?"

He swallowed hard, trying to fight back his emotions. "It belonged to my mother; she gave it to me to hold on to."

She smiled at him. "That's sweet." Snow continued to admire the tiny circle. It was beautiful in its simplicity; the green gem flashed while the firelight played off of the shining surface of the ring. There was something oddly familiar about it, something that drew her strongly; Snow wasn't sure why but she felt compelled to try it on. She didn't bother to take it off of the cord so it took a little effort to twist it onto her right ring finger but she could tell that without the cord it would fit perfectly. Snow then raised her hand out in front of her to admire the jewel on her finger.

James' heart was pounding in his chest as he watched her actions; she had no idea that the ring she had slipped onto her finger was the very one he intended to give her as her engagement ring. It looked so perfect, so _right_ on her hand.

Snow lifted her eyes to gaze at him over the tops of her fingers, intending her expression to be teasing, but her breath caught at the look on his face. Her pulse began to race. In that moment her mind caught the near-same thoughts as his, how much this might be like how it would be when he proposed.

James wanted nothing more than to slip the ring off of the cord and then place it on her left hand, where it belonged. But now was not the time, not when there was still so much for them to discuss and get out in the open, and not while her father was still steadfastly against them marrying.

Seeing some of the intensity in his gaze die down, Snow took a deep breath and managed to look down at her hands, finally bringing the extended one back to her. She worked the ring off of her finger and held it for a moment, running her thumb over the green gem. Finally, she slowly extended it with the pendent to him. "It's beautiful," she told him, a touch of uncharacteristic shyness threading her tone.

"I'm glad you like it," he managed to rasp out as he accepted it back. He slipped the cord over his head again, tucking the pendent and ring under his shirt. He then lifted his eyes once more to Snow's.

So much filled that look between them. Hopes, dreams, love, anxiety, longing, fear, desire, promises.

James extended his arm to Snow again and she willingly let him pull her back to him, curling into his side.

For now this would have to suffice.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So there were a few Easter Eggs in this chapter (I'm pretty sure I've included at least one in every chapter so far); the big one involves a show that Robert Carlyle was in. Let me know if you get it. Thank you so much for reading! I hope that you all enjoyed having Snow and Charming back together again; I know I'm excited for the next few chapters! :-D If you're upset about them putting off talking about James discovering his parentage and why he left Riverdon so abruptly, or worried that they won't "have it out" over it…see the chapter title…and guess what the next one will be. ;-) I hope that you liked getting to see Geppetto, I've been dying to get him on scene ever since I first knew he'd be showing up! Chip was a complete surprise! O.O I knew that he'd show up eventually, but I was writing the scene with Snow riding up and suddenly, there was Chip running out and being his laughing, talkative self. Did you like how Gaspard and Belle met? I didn't know that it would be happening until right after I finished the last chapter; I hope that it was ok! It was also rather daunting in the wake of _Skin Deep_; I'd been so nervous about them having Rumple be the "Beast" and I just totally fell in love with the pairing! I actually kinda wish I could work it into this story, but with how far I've gone with the story at this point it wouldn't work and I just love the character of Gaspard. So I hope that you all aren't too disappointed on that front!

Ok, just to let you all know, this story is going to be going for a _while_. I'm talking months; this story started out fairly simple, but it has possibly spun even more out of control than HC. I will be covering Snow and Charming's courtship, engagement, wedding and at least some of their marriage; I will also be doing more with the characters we've already seen and a few that we've seen very little of so far and some that we haven't met yet. So fair warning that this won't be ending for a while.

As far as some names go, I've been debating whether to change King Rilian's name to "Leopold" and Queen Clara's name to "Regina", now that we know their names in FTL. I wanted to ask all of you your opinion on it. Which would you all like to see?

Now, on to something that I have been wrestling with for quite a while now. I have been planning on writing a chapter, it will take place in the next two chapters or so, that will be "M" rated, this will be my first attempt at writing an intimate scene, it will not be crude or overly explicit. I appreciate all of you readers' support and feedback, and I know that many of you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it and I don't want to turn you all away, so I ask how you would prefer I handle this? I can post two versions of the chapter, one "M" and one "T", or I can do one chapter and clearly label where the "M" content begins and ends, or I can write it like any other chapter, just bumping up the story's rating, if it doesn't really bother any of you. Please let me know how you guys feel in a review, PM or Tweet. I think I'll even post a poll for you guys to vote.

I can never thank you all enough for reading! Sorry about the abnormally long author's notes! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter!


	11. Chapter 10: The Storm

Yes! It is finally here! And the next chapter is already in the process of being written! Holy schamoly! O.O 25 reviews for the last chapter! THANK YOU SO MUCH! :-D Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, faved and tweeted me! :-D I just can't tell you guys enough how much it means to me that so many people are enjoying this story! :-} So thank you again! Also thank you to everyone who responded to my ANs in last chapter! I have decided that I will be definitely trying to write the M chapter but I will also be trying to post a T chapter; I will mark them each VERY CLEARLY so that you know which is which and can choose which version you want to read, the chapter I think will be the next one, but we'll see what the characters have to say about that… O.o Goodness knows they've hijacked this story enough times that I'm learning not to give absolute answers until the chapter is FULLY written! I have also gone back and changed King Rilian and Queen Clara's names to Leopold and Regina; I'm going to repost the edited chapters tonight as well! For any interested parties, I have made a trailer/video for **Hot Chocolate**; the link is in my profile, I hope that you like it! :-D

**Sassy18**, thank you SO MUCH, Dearie! ;-} Your comments and edits are awesome and so helpful!

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 10: The Storm**

As usual, Snow was up absurdly early. She stood in the kitchen slowly stirring the pot of oatmeal; she'd made enough for two. As she spooned it into the bowls there was a knock on the door, opening it she found the person she'd been expecting. Snow smiled a warm welcome to him. "Charming."

He gave her a grin worthy of her nickname for him. "Princess."

She stepped back, opening the door wider to let him in. "Hungry?"

"Why else would I be here?" he teasingly asked, accepting her unspoken invitation.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe I _won't_ share my breakfast with you."

Chuckling, he ducked his head to press a chaste but lingering kiss to her lips; his fingers skimmed over her face worshipfully. "Good morning, Snow."

Snow slowly opened her eyes with a blissful smile on her face; her hands loosely grasping the front of his shirt. "Hmm, that's better." She gazed into his eyes. "Morning, James."

His hands skated gently up and down her arms, eyes roving over her features.

"What?" she asked softly.

"I just still can't believe that you're here," James admitted, his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him.

Her hands slid up his chest and looped around his neck; she rubbed her nose against his affectionately. "I'm right here, Charming." Her hand rose to cup his jaw, thumb tracing the scar on his chin. "I'm not going anywhere." She emphasized her words with a slow shake of her head.

He rested his forehead against hers. "Good to hear."

Snow ran her hands down his shoulders, gently tugging on his arms until she could grasp his hands in hers. "Come on." She entwined their fingers and pulled him over to the table. "You can tell me what drove you into hiding while we eat."

Heaving a weary sigh, James allowed her to direct him to the table and sat down.

Snow set the two bowls down, along with two cups of coffee, and any spices and additives either could desire to flavor their meals with. This done she settled into the seat next to him. "Now, what happened?"

James reached out to entwine their fingers, as he had the habit of doing to reassure himself that she wasn't going anywhere. He then proceeded to tell her everything he had discovered, starting with his meeting Rumplestiltskin on the road, through what his mother had told him. He'd been staring at their joined hands most of the time, his thumb rubbing back and forth over her knuckles. Snow remained silent the whole way through the narrative.

Rubbing a hand over his forehead, James pressed his lips into a thin line. "I feel like I've lost my identity. Like my whole life is a lie."

Snow's soft hand sliding over top of his to grip it drew his attention up to her.

Her eyes looked directly into his. "James, if you came across someone being attacked, what would you do?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I would help them," he told her, his tone implying that should be obvious.

"And if you met a stranger on the road who needed help?"

"I would aid them." James gazed at her questioningly.

She continued in her inquiries. "You still love your brother?" He nodded. "And your mother and father, even though you're angry with them for not telling you the truth?" He compressed his lips, but nodded again. Her head canted to the side, fingers stroking the back of his hand. "And do you still want forever with me?"

His expression became almost incredulous. "Snow–"

"Do I still have your heart?" she relentlessly continued.

His free hand rose to cup her cheek. "Of _course_, I still want forever with you. I couldn't take my heart back from you even if I _wanted_ to."

A slightly teasing smile lit her face. "Well, that's certainly a good thing since I don't intend to _ever_ give it back." She shifted her hands until they were holding his and brought his palm up to rest on her breastbone over her heart. "My heart is yours, too. I don't want it back, James." One of her hands reached out to cup his jaw, thumb tracing the scar in her habitual gesture. "So, how have you changed? How are you not who you were before discovering this? You would do nothing differently than you already have done, you feel no differently about your family, and you feel no differently about me than you did."

James went still, staring at her pensively. "My life has been a lie–"

"How?" she cut in.

"King George isn't my father."

Snow let her hand trail from his chin, down his arm to grasp his hand in both of hers again; lowering their linked hands to her lap. "Isn't he?" Her head canted to the side. "He raised you as his son, and he said that he loved you as such, didn't he?"

His nod was slow; his other hand drifted down to join their already linked hands, tangling their fingers together.

"So, what has really changed?" She looked down at their hands, continuing before he could say anything. "Yes, you have discovered a new aspect of your past, but it doesn't change who you essentially are." Snow leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. "You're _still_ the man I love."

His eyes snapped to hers. "Snow…"

"And _nothing_," she continued vehemently, as if he hadn't said anything, "is _ever_ going to change that."

The aching look in his eyes took her breath away; he disentangled one of his hands and lifted it cup the back of her neck.

"Snow…" James rubbed his nose against hers. "Gods, I love you." With a groan he fastened his mouth on hers, kissing her deeply, pouring every ounce of passion and love he felt for her into it as the kiss deepened.

Snow responded with equal enthusiasm the instant their lips touched, her hands coming up to grasp his face between her palms.

When their lips parted she whispered, "I love you, James, _so much_."

James swallowed back the lump in his throat; his hand skimmed up her arm to curl his fingers around her bicep, the other drew a line from her neck, down her back, to wrap around her waist. Snow allowed her body to sway into his at the pressure from his arms, letting him cradle her against his chest. Her own arms slipped down from his neck to hug him around the middle.

Holding Snow was like holding peace incarnate. The rest of James' world could be going to hell, but here with her in his arms there was only safety and love. He buried his nose in her hair letting her scent wash over him.

"So I guess now is when I explain what happened in Riverdon?" he mumbled into the crown of her head.

"No," she easily countered, shifting so that she could lean more comfortably into him.

"No?" James pulled back, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

Snow tipped her head back to look up at him. "Not right now. I think we've had enough emotional upheaval for the morning." Her head tilted back down to resettle on his shoulder. "You're going to tell me tonight. But for now, I think we both need time to recover from this and…" she finally pulled back to sit up properly and look him in the eye, "I need to go to market after breakfast and you're going with me."

A wry half-grin quirked his lips as he reached a hand out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. "Why is it you're always telling me what to do?"

Snow pecked him on the cheek and turned back to her oatmeal. "Because someone needs to. You can't have _everyone_ doing as you say."

Blue eyes cast heavenward, James lifted his coffee. "You're assuming that _anyone_ does as I tell them."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

No matter the time of year Lochdubh's market was a busy, vibrant place where not only was shopping done but it was also where people congregated throughout the day, especially during the summer. Snow and James wove easily through the crowds, stopping and chatting with friends as they picked up items from the list Snow had compiled with Red and Ella. They drew perhaps a few more looks from locals than they usually would have since James was carrying her basket and Snow's hand was strung through his arm–a near-universal sign of a courting couple. Both were well known to most of the residents, so seeing the pair together in such a manner was guaranteed to draw some attention.

Snow tugged on his arm, pulling him with her to the bakery; like most vendors, the wares were set up outside the shop to escape the sweltering heat radiating from the inside. After a few moments of discussing the different options and prices with the baker, Snow bought two loaves and a baker's dozen of the sweet rolls.

"Why so many?" James inquired about the rolls as they wended their way through the crowd.

Snow cast a brief glance at a vendor's cart, but didn't see what she was looking for. "Because Geppetto invited us to have dinner with all of you tonight and Red, Ella and I told him that we would bring a few things."

"Ah." He nodded; a smirk playing at his lips, knowing that the three women had probably insisted on their doing something for the meal, even though they were the guests. James let the basket slide to the crook of his elbow so he could use his now free hand to reach over and adjust Snow's hand on his arm, bringing her closer to him, enjoying the increased contact. At the small prompt, she easily allowed herself to be drawn more to his side and then leaned into his shoulder closer still. James knew this peace and contentment could not last between them, even in the joy of being together again there was still an undercurrent of tension that they both felt. They knew that his confession about Riverdon was going to happen and while they could both acknowledge the necessity of it, that didn't mean they looked forward to what was going to be something so emotionally trying.

They had moved into the section of the market dedicated to fruits, vegetables and flowers. Snow gasped pointing in the direction of one vendor and pulled him with her.

Her fingers tentatively caressed the fiery petals of the stargazer lilies.

James' heart skipped a beat at the utter awe on her face as she stared at the flowers. "You like them?"

Her head snapped up before she bit her lip. "Stargazers are among my favorites, but they're one of the few plants that won't grow in Everland." She looked back at the blooms, allowing her fingers to trace the shape of the petals. "They're just so lovely and I see them so rarely."

James fished out the coin to pay for the flower, plucked one from the bucket and handed it to her with a flourished bow, made slightly awkward by the basket he carried.

Snow grinned, taking the flower from him with a small curtsey. "Why thank you, good sir," she said laughingly. Her eyes remained on him as she sniffed the flower. "Trying to buy your way into my good graces for later, Charming?" Snow inquired, expression teasing.

He chuckled, leading her away with a hand at the small of her back, and pressed his lips to her temple. "I know better, Princess," he muttered just softly enough for only her to hear.

She threaded her arm through his again, sticking the stem of the flower into the basket. "Good."

"My mother loves stargazer lilies as well," he told her. "She had a great many planted in the gardens; during the spring and summer it looks like it's on fire."

Her cheek pressed into his shoulder. "I would love to see that."

"Hey!"

Both of their heads, along with most others in the area, snapped around at the shout.

One of the vendors had a small ginger-haired boy by the back of his collar, though obviously careful not to cause him pain, and was frowning quite irritably at the child. The boy stared up at the man with fear and bone-deep guilt.

The royals both moved forward in concern.

"Barney," Snow's sweet cadence had the fruit-seller looking up, "what's going on here?" Her eyes cut momentarily to the child but went back to the man.

"Snow, James, afternoon." He nodded before explaining. "Caught this little scamp stealing a peach off of my cart." Annoyance colored his tone and expression, but all in all he wasn't overly angry, obviously taking the would-be "thief's" age into account.

"I'm sorry!" the child's warbling voice had the three adults looking down at him. Tears had already collected in his eyes, one dripped over his eyelashes and slid down his cheek.

Snow crouched down beside the boy. "You know that stealing is wrong."

He nodded his head miserably. "I didn't want to, but I was just _so_ hungry."

"Can you give him the peach back?" James inquired.

The boy's head dropped ashamedly, and he pointed at the ground where they all saw what apparently were the squished remains of said peach.

Snow looked up at the prince; neither of them able to leave this child in such a position.

James turned his attention to Barney, whose face had softened considerably at seeing the genuine guilt in the child's expression. The prince reached into his money bag, pulling out a few coins and handed them to their vendor friend. "That should cover the peach, and these," he plucked three more peaches from the cart and then turned a questioning look to Barney for confirmation.

The fruit vendor looked between the three faces before sighing and nodding indulgently. "Aye, that'll do it." He gestured for them all to go on.

Snow stood, keeping a hand on the boy's shoulders. "Come." She gently directed him with James to a small, nearly empty street out of the way of the market.

James set down the basket and then picked the boy up, bringing him to sit atop a sealed barrel beside a rain-catching one. He then stepped aside, letting Snow move to stand in front of the boy.

She had pulled a handkerchief from the satchel slung across her shoulder and dipped it in the water; gently taking one of the boy's hands in her own, she began to wipe the dirt off of it with the damp cloth. "What's your name?" her voice was soft, coaxing; exactly the tone that the shaken child needed to hear.

The boy's eyes nervously cut to James, who gave him an encouraging half-smile, before going back to Snow. His mouth moved soundlessly a couple of times before managing to whisper, "Pinocchio."

She smiled warmly at him, taking his other hand and cleaning it. "That's a wonderful name, Pinocchio. I'm Snow, and this is James." She tipped her head at the prince, who nodded to the boy.

"Hello." The child continued to watch the two adults with a slightly confused expression.

Once Snow finished wiping his hands she bent down to the basket, tucking the handkerchief in a corner away from the food, and retrieved the bundle of rolls.

Meanwhile James stepped forward, extending one of the peaches to Pinocchio. "You said you were hungry?"

The boy's eyes went wide and it was obvious that he wanted to take the peach, but he held back and looked down at his hands. "I don't have any money. And I don't want to steal again…"

"It isn't stealing," James reassured him. "I'm offering it to you; that's called sharing."

Pinocchio bit his lip, eyeing the man and peach warily, but slowly reached out and accepted the fruit.

Snow had straightened up and opened the bundle; she offered him one of the rolls. "Here."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Pinocchio's eyes were wide as saucers as he looked from the offering to her. Her smile was warm and welcoming, so he hesitantly accepted this gift as well. People had never been so kind to him before, they did tend to be nicer in this village than they had been anywhere else, but this was above and beyond what anyone had ever done for him before.

"Say, 'thank you,'" Jiminy's soft voice near his ear reminded him.

"Oh! Thank you." He gratefully looked between the two adults.

Snow's eyes widened a bit as she finally noticed the cricket perched on the boy's shoulder, slightly obscured from sight by the too-long fire red hair. She bent down so that she was eye-level with Jiminy. "Well, who might you be, sir?"

The cricket was surprised that she'd noticed him at all, he could count on one of Pinocchio's hands how many times that had happened, but the fact that she apparently knew that he'd spoken and was unsurprised by this was what truly shocked him.

He mastered himself enough to execute a tiny bow. "I'm Jiminy Cricket, at your service, mistress."

"He's my conscience," Pinocchio explained between bites of the roll.

James appeared rather thrown for a moment at the tiny voice coming from the insect, but quickly recovered.

Snow nodded her head. "Wonderful to meet you, Master Jiminy."

"Just Jiminy, please." Had he still been human he might have blushed the respectful tone she used. "How is it you're not surprised at my speaking? Few people know that we animals can."

"Snow is friends with the blue birds," James supplied, grinning teasingly at the woman as he handed her one of the other two peaches, keeping the last for himself. "Along with just about any other creature she comes across." He bit into the tender flesh of the fruit.

She rolled her eyes overdramatically at him. "I'm from Everland; growing up I had friends who taught me the secrets of the woods and the animals." She had pulled out another handkerchief and dabbed at the juice on her lips from the peach.

"Ah." Had he been human, Jiminy would have been nodding, but for all that he gained in becoming a cricket, he didn't miss such small gestures. Pinocchio lifted a piece of the fruit to him, which he accepted quite happily, a pleasant change from grass and other greens.

"Where are your parents?" James asked, looking at the child with concern.

Pinocchio dropped his gaze to his lap, picking a little at the skin of the peach with one finger as he shrugged. "I don't know."

The adults shared a look, before turning their attention to Jiminy.

"He was abandoned at an orphanage," the cricket sadly explained.

"Why aren't you still there?" Snow gently inquired, angling her head, trying to catch the boy's gaze.

"They weren't very nice there," he softly admitted.

Both of the adults' expressions became worried, James' darkening substantially.

Snow rested a hand on the boy's arm. "Did…did they hurt you, Pinocchio?"

He shook his head. "Not really, mostly just yelled, and it was really crowded and there wasn't a lot of food."

There was a grim, rigid set to James' jaw. "Where is this orphanage?"

"I don't remember." Pinocchio shrugged again.

"I found him near the border of Seaborn and he had been walking for a few days, so I'm not sure where it was either," Jiminy added. He was curious about the looks the couple shared; Pinocchio's situation seemed to bother them more than it would even most caring people. And James appeared almost personally offended by the idea of this orphanage mistreating their charges.

After a moment Snow turned back to Pinocchio and Jiminy with a warm smile. "Do you have a place to stay?"

The boy shook his head as he dropped the peach pit to the ground. "Not really."

Snow pulled out the damp handkerchief again and handed it to him to wipe his fingers and face off. "Well, I have a couple," James gave a strangled laugh, prompting a mild glare from her, "of spare beds that you could sleep in, for now at least."

Wide eyed, Pinocchio asked, "You're _not_ going to make me go back to the orphanage?"

She reached up a hand and gently stroked it over the tangled, red curls. "No, we aren't. For now you can stay with us, at least until we find a good place for you to permanently live."

Pinocchio bit his lip. "I don't want to be trouble for you."

Already shaking her head before he was halfway through speaking, Snow told him, "It will not trouble us at all. Do you want to come with us?"

The child turned to his guardian and guide on his shoulder, who placed a reassuring "arm" on his cheek. "Whatever you choose, I will go with you."

After only a heartbeat of hesitation Pinocchio turned to the couple and nodded. "Yes, I want to go with you."

"Wonderful." Snow smiled at him brightly, straightening up, she helped him down from the barrel, taking his hand in hers once his feet were firmly on the ground.

James had picked the basket back up and began walking on the other side of Pinocchio; the two adults shortened their strides so that the child could easily keep up with them.

Pinocchio looked back and forth between the couple. "Are you married?"

He was instantly greeted by Jiminy's strangled protests of that question not being "appropriate" and the couple's warm laughter.

"It's all right," Snow finally managed to tell Jiminy; she turned her attention to Pinocchio. "No, we're not." She lifted her eyes to meet James'.

"Not yet," he amended.

"So you will be, some day?"

There was a wistfulness in Snow's expression. "That's the plan," her voice was softer, almost too soft for the boy and cricket to hear.

Something pained and worried flashed through James's eyes. "That's the plan," he agreed hoarsely.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So, have you seen your princess and my prince today?"

Red felt a clash of pulse-racing excitement and smoldering annoyance at the sardonic tone behind her. She didn't allow herself to turn. "He came over this morning and they left together for the market."

Liam came to stand beside her where she was slicing the bread for lunch. "A princess who does her own shopping–"

Red spun at his mocking tone, eyes flashing angrily. "Yes! Snow enjoys going to market," she snapped, her fists planted on her hips. "Do you have a problem with that?" she asked testily.

A smirk curled his lips and he shook his head slowly. "Not at all, I'm just trying to get a feel for who she is and who you are." His voice was threaded with some amusement but for the most part level and nonjudgmental.

Her eyes narrowed at him assessingly. "You were testing me."

He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed, looking at her straight on. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I don't like being played with," she told him, her jaw set.

Unfolding his arms, Liam braced his hands on the edge of the counter behind him. "Well, making you happy isn't my job," he smirkingly countered. "My job is protecting my prince and friend. James is a good man who, when he loves, does so deeply and devotedly. He's in love with your princess and I need to know what she is like; I need to _know_ that she is as she seems and isn't going to hurt him."

Red leaned her hip against the countertop, crossing her arms. "I could say the same thing about your prince. Snow has the best heart and loves just as wholly. I have every right to be questioning you just as much about him, but I'm not."

"You've also had more time to get to know him when he came to visit Everland in the spring," he pointed out simply. "I've only just met Snow White."

"I still didn't poke and prod at him and his friends," she told him sourly. "I waited and observed him."

"You didn't have the opportunity to speak to one of his friends at the time," Liam countered, gesturing at Red. "I do." He smirked again. "And can you honestly tell me you wouldn't have done the same if the opportunity _had_ presented itself?"

"Perhaps not," she conceded, eyes narrowing dangerously. "But do it again, to _any_ of us, and you will regret it _dearly_."

He tipped his head in sardonic acknowledgement. "I'll keep that in mind."

Voices approaching Geppetto's kitchen door drew their attention.

Snow and James walking through the entrance was no surprise, but the little boy with them, however, _was_.

Red cast her eyes to the general again, telling him lowly, "You said you wanted to learn more about her? Well, you're about to." She turned back to the trio, one hand planted on her hip and a slightly amused smile on her face. "Taking in strays again, Snow?"

The princess gave her friend a glare, but there was no real anger behind it; she brought the boy to stand in front of her, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Red, this is Pinocchio." Snow looked down at the child. "Pinocchio, this is my friend Red, and James' friend Liam."

"Hi." He gave a small grin to the two adults.

Red crouched down to eye level with the child. "Hello." She held out her hand to him. "It's nice to meet you, Pinocchio."

He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Red."

The child was charming, and Red couldn't help grinning at the dimpled smile he gave her.

He looked at his shoulder. "This is Jiminy Cricket, my conscience."

Red turned her gaze to where he was looking and gaped; standing on his shoulder was a vest-clad cricket. "Oh!" Blinking a couple of times she managed to recover and gave the insect a smile. "How nice to meet you, Master Jiminy."

"Just Jiminy, if you please, Mistress Red."

"Red is fine." She slowly straightened up, looking at Snow with widened, questioning eyes.

The princess just grinned widely back at her.

James set the basket down on the table. "Where are Geppetto and Ella?"

"Geppetto's working." Liam moved over to join his prince. "Ella…" he glanced questioningly at Red.

"We needed milk," she began to unpack the basket, "Ella went next door to see if the milliner had some to spare. She should be back any minute now."

"I was thinking that Pinocchio could stay with us while we're here."

Red lifted her head to meet her friend's gaze, raising an eyebrow. "That's fine with me."

"Redell, Liam," they all turned as Geppetto stepped through the door from the shop, "are Principessa and Principe – Oh!" He smiled happily at seeing the royals. "I was wondering if you both were here…" his voice trailed off when he noticed Pinocchio, eyes softening. "Well, who is this?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Most of the young people's eyes darted from Geppetto to Pinocchio and back again. This was something they hadn't counted on, but the gears in their minds instantly began turning.

Snow began the introductions. "Geppetto, this is Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket." She gestured to the child's shoulder.

The woodworker's eyebrows rose on his forehead as he noticed the cricket. "It is a pleasure to meet you both."

"They have nowhere to go, so I invited them to stay with us, at least while we're here."

Geppetto's brow furrowed worriedly as he looked back down at Pinocchio. "Where is your home?"

He shrugged. "We don't have one."

The older man muttered under his breath in Italian. "Have you any other clothing?"

A negative shake of the head.

Looking up at Snow he said, "Principessa, the smithy's youngest son has been growing a great deal lately, would you mind going to see if they have any outgrown clothing that our Pinocchio here could have?"

"Of course." She nodded her head.

Red cleared her throat, it sounded suspiciously like she was trying to cover a laugh. "We have some time before lunch, I would prefer it if he bathed before sitting down at the table."

"A fine idea, Redell," Geppetto agreed instantly; he turned to the two younger men. "Principe, Liam, come with me, please, we shall get a bath ready."

Liam kept his head down to hide the smirk on his face.

James rubbed a hand over the mouth, trying to force away the grin that was pulling at his lips. "Right away, Geppetto."

"And I shall also see if any of the clothing from my toys will fit you, Master Jiminy," the craftsman added as he exited the room.

The general followed directly behind the woodworker, but James moved over to Pinocchio to place a hand on his unoccupied shoulder, and, before leading the boy off, leaned in close to Snow's ear. "How so observant a man can be completely oblivious to what we're all so obviously doing is beyond me."

A strangled giggle escaped Snow's throat.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

From there things were rather a whirlwind for Pinocchio and Jiminy. The child wasn't exactly thrilled with being plopped into the bath, as most little boys aren't, but soon he found himself actually enjoying it; it had been far too long since he'd had a proper bath and Geppetto gave him a couple of small wooden boats to play with. The three men left a cup of hot water for Jiminy to do with as he saw fit for his own bathing. After that they were both fitted with fresh, clean clothing, and what few items of their own clothes that could be salvaged were set to soak in hot water by Ella, who had become quite the expert at doing the wash.

When she was introduced to Pinocchio and Jiminy, Ella was just as delighted and charmed by them as the others were.

Snow had patiently sat down and run a comb through Pinocchio's tangled hair; after getting the boy's permission she took a pair of scissors to the too-long locks and trimmed them to a proper length.

For Jiminy, he was rather glad that humans couldn't read insect expressions that easily because the shock he felt at the introduction to Geppetto had nearly caused him to collapse. After so many years of searching he'd finally found the child he and his parents had wronged so many, many years ago. Geppetto was one of the main reasons he had begun to mentor to Pinocchio; he'd seen so much of the kind-hearted dark-haired boy in the ginger-haired one. They both looked at the world with the same wide-eyed wonder.

The cricket felt even guiltier because _he_ was the one who was supposed to help Geppetto, but instead the now older man was helping _him_…again. He could only hope that in staying here he'd somehow be able to aid the man in some way and fulfill his purpose. Jiminy ran an arm over the buttons on the tiny jacket that Geppetto had altered slightly to accommodate his four arms and wings; he looked up at the still-oh-so-kind man. "Thank you so much."

The wizened face crinkled into a smile. "Quite my pleasure. If you need more or prefer something different I can make more."

Had he been human still, Jiminy would have broken down sobbing. "You are far too kind. These are perfect," he managed to choke out.

Lunch was a larger spread than either boy or cricket had had in far too long, and the human adults kept pressing more on them. Finally, for the first time in Pinocchio's short life, he'd truly eaten his fill, and then some, and actually had to refuse to eat more food when offered. The food wasn't fancy, but Jiminy had not had such good food in all his life, not even as a human, when his parents had always taken the choicer portions of their food for themselves.

Afterward Pinocchio had been quite happy to help with the dishes when Snow had requested it of him, and had giggled when she'd then turned and sassily _told_ James to help them and ordered the same of Liam. Back at the orphanage the chore had been just that, a chore, but with this group the boy had found himself laughing and smiling and hardly noticing as he dried the dishes and put them where he was told to. He was actually surprised when Snow declared them "finished." That done they all headed outside, most of them bringing some chore or job to be done with them. Liam had to run to the blacksmith to have a buckle on his horse's bridle fixed. James was drafted into helping Snow peel potatoes for dinner while Red shelled the peas. Ella had brought a dress she was making and sat with the sky blue material pooled in her lap while pulling the needle and thread steadily through it. Geppetto had gone back to the project he was working on before lunch.

Pinocchio stood on the porch, Jiminy back on his usual perch at his shoulder. The child wasn't sure what to do, but his attention kept being drawn to the woodworker, transfixed at the sight of his skilled hands turning the lumps of wood into ornate creations. With tentative steps he made his way over to Geppetto.

The man looked up at his approach and smiled warmly. "Pinocchio." He set his chisel and mallet down for a moment. "Is there something you needed?"

The boy's head tipped to the side. "What are you making?"

The calloused hand brushed over the piece. "This is to be a rocking horse for one of the potters' children."

Pinocchio bit his lip.

Jiminy, knowing his young charge all too well, leaned into the child's ear to say quietly enough that only he would hear, "If you want to, it cannot hurt to ask, Pinocchio."

The boy glanced at him and, at the cricket's modified encouraging nod, took a deep breath, turning back to Geppetto. "Can I help?"

The man's bright eyes light up. "Of course! I would be happy of the help." He gestured with a hand for Pinocchio to move closer to the work bench which the boy did eagerly. The master craftsman began explaining what each of the tools were.

Jiminy hopped off of the child's shoulder, landing on the table, and watched the pair for a few moments, seeing the gentle patience Geppetto showed Pinocchio in teaching him about his trade. He gave the cricket equivalent of a smile before jumping down from the table and hopping over to the four other members of their group; Snow brushed a few peels from beside her on the bench so that he had space to land there. He had pulled his umbrella from where he kept it strapped to his back and leaned on it out of habit, watching the quartet assesingly.

"Geppetto is very good with Pinocchio."

James was the first one to answer. "He loves children."

Snow gave Jiminy a sad smile. "He and his wife wanted them very much, but were unable to have any." She turned back to peeling.

"Hmm," he nodded, still watching them all.

There were several moments of silence.

"So how long do you suppose it will be before he realizes what you're trying to do?" he inquired archly.

Four semi-guilty gazes lifted to meet his.

Red was the first to recover and smirked wryly. "We're kinda hoping it'll be either too long after it could possibly matter or that if he does figure it out that it'll be so soon that it won't bother him."

Ella twisted the thread around her finger, preparing to knot it off. "I haven't known Geppetto more than a day, but I have not seen him this animated the entire time." She nodded in the direction of the aforementioned man and his new student.

James tossed a potato he had just finished peeling into the tub with the others. "His wife's death hit him hard; he was never quite the same afterward." He picked up another and continued working.

Jiminy absorbed all that they told him, eager for any and all information they could give him about the man he had wished so desperately to help. "His life has been hard?"

Snow's smile was bittersweet. "Geppetto has known heartache and loss, but he has never complained. For the most part he's held onto joy; he loves his work," her eyes sparkled brightly, "especially making things for children. He makes and donates toys to orphanages, and anonymously gives some to children of needy families, particularly during the holidays when they would get no such presents otherwise."

As they spoke Geppetto was gently guiding Pinocchio's small hands through the process of sanding the wood, praising the child for a job well done.

Watching his two "charges" Jiminy began to wonder privately if perhaps this had been what was meant to be from the moment that he made the wish. Breathless hope welling in him, he continued to observe the man and child; seeing the first beginnings of a promising bond forming between them. Perhaps Jiminy had to originally lose Geppetto in order to find the boy meant to be his son and then bring them together… He would not say anything about this to Pinocchio, not wanting to disturb the burgeoning relationship between the pair, or possibly get the child's hopes up if they ended up not coming to fruition.

But that didn't mean that Jiminy wasn't going to let those hopes blossom in his own heart…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

After dinner Liam took Pinocchio out on the porch with Red and Jiminy to stargaze. Geppetto had to put the finishing touches on a bedframe for the butcher's wedding gift to his daughter, he'd promised to deliver it by morning. James, Snow and Ella cleaned the dishes and kitchen; when that was done Ella decided to duck out of sight and leave the couple alone.

They stood in the kitchen, a pregnant silence reining between them as they each contemplated their respective cups of tea.

James swirled his drink in the cup. "No putting it off any more."

"No." Snow was staring down at her mug on the counter, turning it slowly.

The stayed like that for a few moments longer.

She traced one long, delicate finger around the rim of her cup. "Why, James?"

The catch in her voice tore at his heart; his hands clenched around the mug.

"I thought…" Her voice trailed off; she had to take a deep breath before continuing. "I thought that you were going to propose to me."

"I was," he told her hoarsely.

She lifted her eyes to his; the hurt in them slammed him in the gut. "Then why didn't you?"

James clenched his jaw, setting down the cup and bracing his hands on the counter. "I went to your father to ask his permission, his blessing…" It felt like a hand was squeezing his heart. "He refused."

Her hands went numb, falling away from her cup, while the world spun around her disorientingly. "What?"

His lips were pressed into a thin line. "He refused to allow me to marry you."

Snow suddenly realized that she hadn't taken a breath in several moments and she desperately sucked air into her lungs. "Why?" she managed to gasp out.

She could see the pain etched into his profile. "Because he knew about Midas' wishes for Abigail and I. Because he didn't want you endangered by that situation. Because," the pain in his expression was now injected into his tone, "he didn't think you could be happy living in the public eye that would come with being my wife. That I couldn't make you happy…and…because he didn't believe that I love you." How was he still breathing after finally saying the words that tore through him like knives? he wondered to himself.

A tear slid silently down her cheek as she finally looked away from him.

The ringing absence of noise in the room pressed in on their ears, breath hard to come by in the heavy strain.

Snow's hands curled into small fists. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His eyes gazed into the inky blackness out the window. "Because I was so angry and hurt that I was afraid of hurting you with harsh words against your father, when he was just trying to protect you."

A short, half-strangled mirthless laugh escaped her throat. "I _did_ get hurt, James." Incredulity colored her tone.

He forced himself to meet the resounding pain in her eyes; his lips parted to respond.

"Snow, Red and Ella are ready to leave–" Liam had strode through the door but came to a dead stop, his voice immediately breaking off at the atmosphere that was rife with tension.

Snow looked away from James, pasting a small, fragile smile on her face. "Thank you Liam, are Pinocchio and Jiminy ready as well?"

The general's narrowed; assessing eyes darted between the couple. "Pinocchio fell asleep on the porch. Geppetto said that they could stay here; that he had a spare child's bed Pinocchio could use."

Both royals' attention was suddenly snapped to him, their gazes almost piercing. They glanced back at each other for a moment.

James could still see the raw hurt in Snow's eyes, but he could also tell that she was thinking the same thing as him.

Her eyes skated away from him back to Liam, giving him a smile again. "Thank you, I'll go talk with Geppetto before I leave."

As she moved to walk past him, James reached out to grasp her arm. "Snow –"

She jerked back, eyes averted from him, twisting her body to avoid his touch and raising her hands in front of her, palms facing outward, a glaringly obvious movement that screamed for him not to touch her.

James' hand dropped to his side like a stone.

She continued her way across the room and through the door toward the bedrooms.

Liam turned to his prince; James was again facing the counter with his hands braced against it, shoulders hunched.

"What was that about?" The general scowled.

With a sigh James straightened up and gathered both cups. "Nothing you need to worry about."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "Was that about whatever drove you here? Could she not handle–"

"No," the prince exasperatedly corrected him and then chuckled mirthlessly. "No, that she didn't care about beyond how it made _me_ feel; she accepted it better than I did." He moved over to the sink.

Brow furrowed in concern and confusion, Liam crossed his arms. "Then what was it?"

"I made a mistake." He dunked the cups in the basin. "A very stupid one that hurt her."

"What?"

James walked around the counter and gave Liam a look as he passed him. "Not anything that is your business." He continued heading to the door. "This is something Snow and I have to work out."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Geppetto, you really don't have to," Snow's soft concerned voice told the woodworker as she watched him finish tucking in the sleeping child.

The older man gave her a fond smile over his shoulder. "I know, but I want to."

Her fingers stroked over the intricate carvings on the bedframe, slightly dusty from being stored away for so many years until just a few minutes ago. "I know what this bed means to you – what it meant to Alessandra." Geppetto's wife's warm eyes sparkled at her from distant memory.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Mio amore would have felt the same way as I. A child needs a bed and I have one." He smiled warmly down at Pinocchio's sleeping form and brushed a gentle hand over the ginger curls. "Alessandra would have liked him very much."

A bittersweet smile curled Snow's lips, one finger absently tracing a grinning gnome carved into one of the bed posts. Geppetto made the bed for his and Alessandra's first and only child, who had been stillborn. "She had a heart as big as yours."

Geppetto reached over and squeezed her hand. "You are kind, Principessa."

A wryness lit her eyes. "How is it kind to speak the truth?"

He chuckled, leading her out of the room, careful to leave the door open a crack so that Jiminy would be able to get in when he wanted to and in case the child became scared in the night. He wrapped a fatherly arm around her shoulders. He decided to drop that line of conversation, knowing he would never win. "As it is, this will give Pinocchio and I a chance to get to know each other, like you all want." He looked down at Snow, eyes sparkling in amusement.

She gave him a slightly sheepish smile. "We wondered when you would notice."

"You were less than subtle, Principessa."

Her head rested on his shoulder. "We just want you to be happy, Geppetto."

He kissed the crown of her head. "You all have good hearts."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Over the next two days James discovered a whole new meaning to the phrase "a living hell." After his confession, Snow had gone home with her two friends without another word. The next day he'd expected her to snap, glare, and possibly yell at him. But she hadn't. Since that night she'd not said _one word_ to him, hadn't even _looked_ at him. She didn't acknowledge his very existence. She was ignoring him _entirely_. Oh, yes, _this_ was his hell.

He was splitting firewood behind Geppetto's house, Pinocchio scurrying in after he cleaved a log to gather the pieces and bring them to the pile. After an hour of this in the heat, Snow materialized out the door to the kitchen carrying two sweating glasses of water; she smiled warmly down at the boy.

"How would you like some water, Pinocchio?" She crouched down beside him offering one of the two cool drinks.

"Yes, please." He nodded his head vigorously, accepting the glass from her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She stoked a fond hand over the child's head before straightening up and setting the second glass on the near-by table, obviously intended for James, and heading back to the door.

"Thank you," James called after her.

She didn't so much as spare him a glance before disappearing inside.

Heaving a weary frustrated sigh, he let his head fall forward.

"Why didn't Snow talk to you?"

James looked up at Pinocchio's innocent question; he gave a wry chuckle moving over to the glass on the table and lifting it. "Because I upset her, and we're having a fight." He took a refreshing, long drink of the water.

The child's brow furrowed in confusion. "Don't you have to talk to have a fight?"

A mirthless chuckle tumbled from the prince's lips. "Apparently not."

Pinocchio's expression became even more baffled. "But it you don't talk, how do you work out the problem and stop fighting?"

'From the mouths of babes…' James mused silently. "That's a good question, Pinocchio."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow had to focus hard on her breathing, trying desperately to slow her racing pulse. She was standing near the window, close enough to where she could see James, but at such an angle that he couldn't see her. After satisfying his thirst he returned to splitting the logs. Snow was still _very_ angry and annoyed with him, but that didn't stop her from loving him…or being attracted to him. Her Prince Charming was devastatingly handsome, he wreaked havoc on her heart rate and breathing under any circumstances; the fact that because it was so hot he had pulled his shirt off while working was of no help _at all_. _Gods_, it was completely unfair that even as sweaty and dirty as he was from doing chores in the summer heat – or perhaps in part _due_ to that – and as mad as she was at him, that she still desired him so desperately.

"You know, I have to wonder what on earth has you so angry at him that you won't even acknowledge his existence when he's around, but then gaze at him longingly when he can't see you doing so."

Snow quickly tore her eyes from James' form and looked down at the sandwiches that she, Red and Ella were making for lunch. She didn't know what she could say in response to Red's sardonic comment, so Snow decided to say nothing at all.

"You keep ignoring people when they say or do things you don't like you're going to have no one to talk to," the younger dark-haired woman wryly told her, ignoring Ella's soft protests at her not to bother Snow.

The princess rolled her eyes, glancing at the woman she loved like a sister. "I'm not ignoring you."

"All right," Red said glibly, settling one hand on her hip. "Then what the hell is going on? Why are you meting out this punishment on Prince Charming there?" She waved her free hand in James' direction.

"Red," Ella finally hissed, "that's not really our business."

"Well, I'm sick of them both moping over each other when they aren't _seething_ over each other," the taller woman snapped back at the blonde, before turning to Snow again. "Look, if you don't want to talk to us about it, fine. But sort whatever this issue is out, because the rest of us are getting tired of the drama."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

When Ella called them in to wash up for lunch James waved Pinocchio to go in the kitchen, heading for the hall with the bedrooms himself; knowing that if he turned up at the table as sweaty and dirty as he was Red would likely ream him up and down. After washing his face and hands, running a towel over his damp skin and changing into a fresh shirt he finally felt presentable enough not to incur the fiery woman's wrath.

He headed down the hall to the kitchen; glancing in the open linen closet door as he was passing stopped him dead in his tracks. Snow was inside standing on her tip-toes trying to reach what looked to be a tablecloth on a shelf above her head and having very slow progress at it. James glanced up and down the passage way; seeing no one he silently stepped into the room. It wasn't until the door clicked shut behind him that Snow realized that she wasn't alone anymore and turned. Her eyes went wide upon seeing him and she froze.

"Snow," he greeted her mildly, as if she hadn't been ignoring him for nearly three days.

She was immobile for several moments before spinning from him and hurriedly tugging down the tablecloth, knocking other linens to the floor in the process. She quickly shoved the ones she didn't want onto lower shelves before darting toward the door, not looking at him.

James' arm shot out to brace against the shelf next to him, barring her way, and with him standing directly in front of the door as it was, Snow was trapped where she stood.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line; glaring at the doorframe over his arm.

"We need to talk," he told her in a level voice.

Her eyes snapped to his, flashing with anger. "Oh, so _you_ get to decide when we talk and when we don't?"

He narrowed his eyes, his own temper flaring. "That's not what I said."

"Well, that certainly is how it seems!" Her hands fisted in the material of the tablecloth.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was taking longer than necessary to get the tablecloth so Red headed to the linen closet to see what was keeping her. Frowning upon seeing the door closed she put her hand on the handle, but stopped.

Leaning her head closer she confirmed the fact that raised voices were drifting out from the inside of the closet…two to be exact. Even though they were muffled it wasn't hard to figure out who the voices belonged to. She backed away from the door and returned to the kitchen.

Ella and Liam were in the room gathering lunch together to take outside where they were going to eat at a table Geppetto had, set up.

Her blond friend looked up at her entrance. "Where's the tablecloth?"

Red began helping them. "We don't need it."

The other two went still.

Liam scoffed. "'We don't need it?'" He moved to stand right beside her, crowding her. "That's not what you've said before. In fact you _always_ insist on a covering for the tabletop."

"We'll survive this once," she countered drolly, attempting to walk around him.

He moved to block her, eyeing her shrewdly. "Why didn't you get the tablecloth?"

Red glared at him, and then canted her head to the side in a rather sarcastic gesture. "Well, gee, it might have something to do with the fact that Snow and James were finally having it out in the linen closet?"

Liam leaned back a bit, glancing at Ella, whose eyebrows were lifted in surprise and relief; he looked back at the dark-haired woman standing before him. "They're talking?"

"More like shouting, but yes, words and some communication seem to be involved." Her tone was sardonic but there was a definite hint of relief.

They were all silent for a few moments.

When Ella finally broke it, her words were fairly…understated. "I suppose we should make them each a plate."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You up and leave without a word to me, and then you barge in here and declare that we're going to talk. Certainly seems like you're the one making the decisions!" Snow's fingers were viciously twisting the tablecloth still in her hands.

James planted his hands on his hips, meeting her glare head on. "I was going to have to leave in only a few hours as it was; I was furious, I had no time to calm down so that I could speak with you rationally."

"Then you should have spoken with me _ir_rationally!" She shook her head incredulously. "You left me with nothing more than a kiss on the hand, James!" Her voice was rife with scorn and annoyance.

"I didn't want to say something about your father in the heat of the moment that I would regret and that could hurt you in some way!"

"You should have said it anyway!" She threw the tablecloth onto the small table in the center of the room. "Better that than spending all that time wondering when or if I'd ever see you again! Wondering if you still wanted me! If you _loved_ me!"

"Snow, I'm sorry; I can't tell you _how_ sorry I am that I hurt you!" he told her plaintively, his heart tearing at the knowledge of how deeply he'd injured her. Without even thinking he had been reaching out to her, trying to comfort her, but she backed farther away, out of his reach; so he let them drop forlornly to his sides.

"I _know_ you are, James," she told him passionately. "But sorry doesn't _fix_ this!"

His heart dropped in his chest and he couldn't draw a breath…what was she saying?

"I can't marry a man who makes decisions that affect us both without even consulting me."

Was his heart still beating?

Her eyes gazed up at him pleadingly. "I love you, James, so much that I can't breathe at the idea of _not_ being with you. But I need you to promise me that you will _never_ do something like that again!"

James sucked in a breath with the realization that she _wasn't_ giving up on them; that she still wanted him, still wanted them. "I promise," he immediately told her.

"I mean it, James." She wasn't able to keep her lip from trembling slightly. "I don't care if you think what you have to say will hurt me, because likely you _not_ saying it will hurt me more."

Stepping closer to her, hands shaking violently with relief, he reached up to cradle her face between his palms, looking her straight in the eye. "Snow, I give you my word that I will never hold back like that again. That I will be honest with you always."

Her eyes fell shut with a relieved sigh. "Thank you," she whispered, a single tear escaping from under her eyelid to trickle down her cheek.

That lone tear killed James; a lump lodged in his throat and it was a struggle for him to swallow past it. He pressed his lips to her cheek, trying to remove all evidence of the saltwater droplet; following its trail to the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeated it over and over against her skin, begging her forgiveness.

Her hands came up to fist in the front of his shirt. "I forgive you," Snow choked out; she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "Do you forgive me for ignoring you?" Her voice shook slightly.

"Yes," he managed to gasp, pressing his forehead against hers, his lips quirking into a sad facsimile of his usual half-smile. "Just as long as you promise to _never_ do that again; the last couple of days have been hell incarnate."

A strangled sob escaped her throat as she nodded her head slowly against his. "I promise."

His hands had drifted down to encircle her waist. "Thank you."

Her hands slid up to entwine behind his neck, pulling herself up so that her lips were near his ear. "I'm right here, Charming." She was trying to tease him a bit, but the warble in her voice from the tears made it sound more like she was trying to reassure the both of them. Her arms wound more fully around his shoulders, bringing her body flush against his. "I'm not going anywhere." Her tone all but begged, _Don't _let_ me go anywhere._

James' arms locked around her, not allowing a breath of space between them; absorbing the feeling of her pressed against him, reveling in the knowledge that she was back in his arms and wasn't going to leave him. The fingers of one hand wound through the long locks trailing down her back, rubbing a curl between his thumb and forefinger. Her face was buried in the joint of his neck and shoulder, the tears that were still falling wet his skin.

He turned his head so that his lips brushed her ear. "I love you, Snow, no matter what happens, _never_ doubt that."

She sniffed and nodded; after a moment pulling her head back so that she could look at him with a watery smile. "I love you too, Charming."

James brought his hands up to wipe at the tracks on her cheeks. "Please don't cry, Snow," he begged her, though his own face held the evidence of the tears he himself had shed.

"What, Prince Charming doesn't know how to deal with a crying woman?" she teased, a few stray tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.

He groaned. "It's more that I can't stand to see you hurting, especially when I'm the cause of it."

A laugh, hardly more than a sigh, escaped her lips; her mouth curled up in an affectionate smile while she gazed at him. Snow rose on her toes, bringing his head down to hers and pressed their lips together.

James was frozen for a moment but soon slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her back as fiercely as she was him. His hands drifted from her face to her back, enveloping her in the curve of his body and holding her there with no intention of letting go any time soon.

"James," she mumbled against his lips, her fingers sliding through his short hair.

One of his hands had risen to cup the back of her neck, his thumb caressing behind her ear. "Hmm?"

Snow gasped, her thoughts momentarily scattering; it took a bit of effort to recollect them. "Um," she pushed herself up farther on her toes, trying to press closer to him still. "Hmm… You do realize we're…oh!" He was now kissing that same spot behind her ear and it was taking quite a bit of concentration for her to finish the thought. "We're stuck in here…"

It took a couple of moments for that to really penetrate his mind; when it did he pulled back and looked at her in confusion. "What?"

Her eyes were still heavy-lidded but her lips were twitching in amusement. "That door latches from the other side."

James' head whipped around to look at the door and indeed found that there was no latch on their side, nor were there hinges. His head fell back with a groan.

Snow burst into laughter, burying her face in his chest and clinging to him as her knees were near giving out in her mirth.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

They had moved to sit side-by-side with their backs against the wall near the door, waiting for someone to walk by.

James had taken one of her hands and was rubbing his thumb over her knuckles; Snow was leaning into his side, head resting on his shoulder.

"Since we have the time to talk," he began dryly, drawing a less-than-lady-like snort from her, before his tone became serious, "what do you want to do about your father's refusal?"

Snow sighed, turning her face to press her cheek into his arm. "It hurts that he doesn't trust my judgment really."

James bent his head to kiss the top of hers. "He just loves you and doesn't want to see you possibly hurt."

"Hmm," she reluctantly agreed, pressing her lips together. "I guess after you sort things out with your family we'll have to then start trying to convince him that we really are in love and want to get married."

"As simple as that, huh?" he asked wryly.

She gently hit him in the shoulder. "Don't be so pessimistic."

His fingers tightened around hers. "He's already refused once, Snow… What if he refuses again?"

Lifting her head, she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Then we'll just have to ignore him and get married anyway."

A frown marred his expression. "I'm being serious, Snow."

"And so am I," she countered easily, looking him dead in the eye.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You'd go against your father, society, tradition, _everything_ to marry me?"

She shifted until she was on her knees and nearly eye to eye with him; she cupped his cheek with her free hand. "James, there's very little I wouldn't do to be with you." She shook her head. "I love my father very much, but he isn't the one marrying you, _I _am." Her thumb traced the scar on his chin. "I love you with all my heart and I _will_ marry you, no matter what he says." She canted her head to the side. "Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

A grin creased his face as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. "In a heartbeat," he promised against her lips.

"Good," she murmured back in kind.

The kiss was slow and thorough.

Snow let out a surprised squeal, muffled by James' mouth being still pressed to hers, when he abruptly pulled her off balance and sent her sprawling into his lap. He laughed into the still-engaged kiss, holding her cradled in his arms and enjoying having her there. Snow swatted his chest laughing against his lips as well with amused outrage.

The amusement soon faded from the moment as it turned amorous once more.

At her prompting movements, James helped Snow lever to her knees and then straddle his waist.

"Hey, are you two still alive in there?"

They froze at the heavy knocks on the door and Liam's voice coming from the other side.

At that moment James felt that he could quite cheerfully maim his best friend; he stifled a groan in Snow's shoulder while she muffled the fit of giggles that overtook her in his.

"Yes, we're fine!" he called out, the pair beginning to disentangle themselves. "But we're trapped in the closet, the door only latches on the outside; will you open it?" They got to their feet and moved toward the door.

"Well I don't know–" Liam cut off when James slammed his fist against the door. "Geez! All right! One'd think you'd be in a better mood than that after being alone with your woman for so long!"

"Not long enough," James muttered under his breath softly enough that only Snow heard.

Liam cast the princess an odd look as she stumbled out of the closet choking on laughter.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Fate's child watched as the threads his mother picked along slowly began to wend their way around the snag in the pattern._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

I hope you guys liked it! What did you think of my versions of Pinocchio and Jiminy so far? Pinocchio is one of the two Disney movies I like the LEAST, but I've been enjoying what they've shown us on OUaT so far! I hope that the fight between Snow and Charming felt all right to you guys! Next chapter is started and already there's a LOT of Snowing! XD Pleas let me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!


	12. Chapter 11: ReWinding T Version

**This is the T version of this chapter!**

Thank you soooooo much everyone for all the support, reviews, alerts, faves and tweets! So here is the requested "T" version of this chapter, I hope that I still got the emotions and the gist of it all across. A side note, I have had so many questions about this story and the differences between it and cannon and what the heck is actually up, etc. Here's the premise basically: The curse was broken and not only was everyone returned to FTL but time was turned back SUBSTANTIALLY and things were VASTLY changed as well over time, to quote Aslan from Narnia, "things can't happen twice the same way." Some things will be different, some things that happened originally may happen differently or not at all. This is a post-curse, AU; I will be working as much of what happens in the show into the story as I can manage as I write this, but some things just won't fit with the story I'm telling. So, here's a warning now, don't always expect things to be entirely true to cannon, thus the AU.

**Sassy18**, dearie, how can I thank you enough for the advice, edits and your input? Thank you sooooo…much! :-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 11: Re-Winding**

The next morning when James arrived at the kitchen door of Henry's house not only was it unlocked for the first time in three days, but it was wide open. Even though he knew this was Snow's way of telling him that he was welcome he rapped lightly on the door before he stepped through, wanting to give her some warning.

Snow grinned at him over her shoulder from her position at the stove. "Good morning, Charming."

His heart leapt at the teasing greeting; he'd missed it over the days she ignored him. "Good morning," he returned.

She turned back to the pan where she was cooking eggs. "Scrambled all right with you?"

A grin played at his lips. "And if it wasn't?"

"Then you'd go hungry," she glibly informed him.

James chuckled. "Scrambled is fine."

He moved across the room until he stood directly behind her; with one hand he brushed her hair over her shoulder before settling both of them on her waist. James bent his head forward to skim his lips from the joint of her shoulder and neck, up the column of her throat, then ghosting them over the shell of her ear. He saw her mouth curling into a smile as she tilted her head to accommodate his ministrations.

"Do I get a good morning kiss?" His lips traced the line of her jaw.

A grin was trying to spread across her face. "I'm making breakfast."

He reached around to take the pan from her and set it off to the side; he then turned her to face him. Snow had finally stopped fighting the grin and it was radiant; she ran her hands up his chest to wind around his neck. James splayed his hands across her back drawing her against him; he bent his head, brushing his lips softly against hers.

"I thought that you wanted to kiss me good morning," she taunted him.

"Oh, I do," he assured her, chuckling. He proved his point a moment later, taking possession of her mouth in a searing kiss.

Snow pushed herself up on her toes, pressing her body closer to his; James moaned at feeling her curves flush against him. He loved how uninhibited she was in showing how much she wanted him, though it also drove him crazy, straining his own self-control to its limits.

When their lips parted Snow peppered small teasing kisses along his jaw.

"Snow," he groaned, firming his grip on her waist and pushing her back to look down at her, "I'm only human."

Her cheeks were lightly tinged with pink, but there was an impish gleam in her eyes as she grinned at him.

His eyes narrowed. "You did that on purpose."

She was biting her lip, holding in a laugh.

Cocking an eyebrow, he gave her a dry look. "That's cruel."

Raising her hand and pushing him back with one finger to his chest, she teasingly told him, "I have breakfast to make." Snow turned back to the stove, returning the pan to the burner so that the eggs could finish cooking.

James watched her for a few moments, before stepping up right behind her again. He leaned his head in over her shoulder; he could see a self-satisfied smile gracing her lips. "Still playing unfairly?"

"If you recall," humor threaded her tone, "_I_ wasn't the one who started it." She turned her head to look at him. "And you can't say that it's not totally undeserved."

He smirked back at her. "I admit nothing."

Snow's expression became teasing. "Of course you don't."

They were grinning at each other within moments.

"Would you please get the plates and mugs?" She pointed at one of the cabinets.

"Of course." He leaned in pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her lips before going to do as she requested. "What were you planning to do today?" he asked.

"I don't have any plans." Snow looked at him. "What were you thinking of?"

He set the dishes down on the counter near the stove and leaned his hip against it, facing her. "I was going to go out for a horseback ride. Would you like to join me?"

A grin lit up her face, chased by a teasing smirk. "Do you think you and Cain can keep up with me and Aravis?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Snow came to meet him down by the stables, but her wearing cream-colored breeches and white men's shirt while leading the golden mare by the reins definitely hadn't been anywhere in his imagination. He could now see why women were expected to wear long coats while riding, the breeches conformed to her curves perfectly and, without the coat, his view of her form was unhindered. The shirt wasn't at all form-fitting; in fact, it was loose, but the fabric draped over the dips and curves of her torso intriguingly.

Her grin was teasing, eyes sparkling as she approached him. "See something you like, Charming?" The braid she'd pleated her hair into slid over her shoulder when she canted her head to the side; a few curls had worked free to brush her cheeks.

He stepped closer, the hand that wasn't holding Cain's reins coming up to gently grip her waist, he bent his head to hers; their lips met and clung. Snow's free hand rose to clench her fingers in the front of his dark green shirt; a soft moan drifted from her throat.

After a few moments James lifted his head, opening his eyes to meet her sparkling ones. "Does that answer your question?" he asked huskily.

She grinned, rising on her toes to quickly kiss him again. "Maybe, Charming." She pecked him once more and then lowered to her soles, pulling away to adjust Aravis' girth. "How long will we be staying out?"

James looped the reins over Cain's head. "Well, I brought some leftovers for lunch, so until dinner if we want."

Snow cast him a grin over her shoulder before mounting. "Good." Once in the saddle her eyes glinted impishly at him. "Then I'll race you to the cove!" She urged Aravis to sprint off.

He swung up onto Cain's back, kicking the war horse into a gallop. "That's cheating, Princess!"

She glanced over her shoulder, laughing at him as she shouted, "Don't be a sore loser, Charming!"

"I haven't lost yet, Princess!" he yelled back. "Nor have you won!"

They raced through lanes, woods and beaches to the cove, the person in the lead changed over and over. Just as they reached the cove Snow pulled out in front and won the race, though James wasn't a neck-length behind her. She was the first one to begin dismounting but he was only a second behind her and faster in getting off of Cain, so by the time her feet touched sand he was already there, picking her up by her waist.

"You're a cheat, Princess." His fingers began dancing over her sides.

Snow shrieked with laughter, squirming in his arms, trying to get away. "I believe–" she gasped, "there's a saying–" her laugher redoubled, "that all's fair in love and war." She continued to writhe, trying to get free.

Her struggles became enough that James had to lower her to the ground, where she lay on her back still guffawing; he followed her down, propping himself on his elbows above her. Her laughter was slowly petering off as she gazed up at him, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeves; her expression became inquiring. "What are you thinking about?"

"Well," he dipped his head down to skim his nose across her cheek and then back again to rub it against hers, "I'm thinking that for the first time, I have you all to myself with little-to-no time constraint and even smaller chance of us being interrupted."

She ran her hands up his arms to wind around his shoulders, pulling him closer so that their lips were lightly brushing. "What do you think we should do with all of this uninterrupted time?"

He grinned. "I'm sure we'll think of something." And with that his mouth settled over hers.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So, did my prince run off with your princess again?"

Red was sitting on the porch of Henry's cottage in one of the carved, wooden lounge chairs–Geppetto's work was as superb as ever–she took a deep breath, trying to quell her racing heartbeat at Liam's sardonic question. What was it about this man that got under her carefully woven defenses, could make her pulse skitter and breath catch? Part of her wanted nothing more than to turn around and banter flirtingly with him; she _liked_ the heat that he sent coursing through her veins. She ruthlessly pushed it all aside, reminding herself of all of the reasons why she _shouldn't_ like him at all and the reason she _couldn't_ be with him, or _any_ man. "Snow left a note saying that she went out riding with James; they'll be back for dinner," she told him, not even glancing up from the book she was reading.

"Where's Ella?"

She was acutely aware of Liam moving from the doorway behind her and around to sprawl in the chair across from her. His easy, lazy movements had Red's heart pounding. Damn it! It was wholly unfair of the fates to place the first man she'd ever been at all attracted to in front of her like this when she _couldn't_ have him and after she'd finally contented herself with spinsterhood.

"She's at the market; she saw a few bolts of cloth the other day and decided to go back for the ones she wanted before the festival tomorrow. Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy?" She felt joy bloom through her at the thought of those three. She and the others had been overjoyed at how close Geppetto and Pinocchio had grown over the last few days. Speaking with Jiminy they'd discovered just how affection-starved Pinocchio was; what they had been giving him he soaked up like a bone-dry sponge. But he seemed to seek it out the most from Geppetto, who was more than happy to provide it. The boy spent hours at the craftsman's elbow absorbing everything that the man had to teach him about woodworking. Last night the child had fallen asleep leaning into Geppetto's side while the man was telling him a story.

"They decided to go fishing early this morning; won't be back until late afternoon." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him grin broadly. "Guess it's just you and me."

Red suppressed the flutter of her pulse. "No, it's just _you_. I'm reading." She raised the book in her hands to emphasize the statement, keeping her eyes on the pages.

He snatched the book out of her hands.

"Hey!" She attempted to grab it back but he pulled it away.

His gaze met Red's head on. "Why are you putting me off?"

She set her jaw, attempting to maintain a glare. "Why do you keep bothering me?"

Liam's eyes were intent on hers. "Because I want to."

_Because I want you_, the real meaning behind his words knocked the wind out of Red.

A stricken expression flashed across her face before she could cover it. Taking a deep breath she reasserted her stoic façade, stood and took the book back, keeping her eyes locked on his. "You _don't_ want me."

He sat back gazing at her levelly. "How do you know that?"

Her jaw locked, pain flaring in her eyes. "Trust me. I _know_. And you do _not_ want me." Red spun on heel and briskly strode back into the house.

Liam watched her retreat, before turning and staring out over the beach. Water lapped at the sand, the hushed rush of the small waves hitting the shore softly countered the chirps of the birds and whisper of the wind. He frowned deeply, Red's words echoing in his mind.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow and James had removed the saddles from their horses and tied them off by the reins to a couple of nearby trees. They pulled out the food and blankets they had brought; Snow spread one of them out on the ground while James set their things on top of it. She then sat down and proceeded to pull off one of her boots.

James raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

She smirked at him, teasing, "Taking my shoes off, what does it look like?"

"I can see that," he countered wryly, "_why_ though?"

She rolled down her sock and stuffed it inside the boot. "I want to go walking down by the water." Her head canted to the side coyly as she tugged off her other boot. "Want to join me?"

With a grin he sat down beside her and began copying her movements. Snow stuck her other sock into its boot and stood, staring down at him, waiting. Chucking, he finished removing his own boots and rose to his feet, taking her hand in his; they walked down to the water side-by-side. Snow stopped once the waves could reach their feet and grinned, watching the water wash over her toes.

"You like the sea?" James asked.

She lifted her head, eyes sparkling. "Yes." Her gaze turned to the distant, shimmering horizon. "I love the mountains, woods, fields and lakes of my home, but I do enjoy being by the ocean here."

He lifted their linked hands to kiss the back of hers. "Well, that's certainly good to hear, considering that most of my kingdom is on the water," he gently joked.

She turned to him, a sassy grin on her face. "Why, are you _implying_ something, Charming?"

He tugged on her hand, grinning back at her. "Not at all." He leaned his head down, covering her mouth with his.

Her free hand curled into his shirt; James' palm pressed against the small of her back drawing her closer to him. A cold splash against his knees caused him to jerk his head back; there were water spots on the knees of his breeches and droplets rolling down his legs. Snow was grinning up at him impishly, the toes of her right foot stirring the water that had settled back around their feet.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don't want to start that, Princess."

"Why," she kicked more water at him, "not?"

"Oh," he began moving toward her; Snow countered each of his steps with one backward, "because I'm going to have to take retribution."

A giddy grin spread across her face. "Retribution?"

His eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh, yes."

Abruptly he swooped in and scooped her up in his arms; she was laughing, clinging to his neck. James began striding deeper into the water; upon realizing what he was doing, Snow tightened her arms around him crying through her laughter, "No, James! No!"

"Retribution, Princess," he chuckled.

When the water was above his knees James allowed himself to fall backward into the water, Snow still cradled to his chest; she yelped as they splashed into the salty surf.

They surfaced quickly in the shallows, she spluttering and he laughing. Snow glared at the man beside her and sent a wave of water at him. "Very funny, Charming."

He caught her hand and began pulling her with him out to deeper water. "I told you, Princess, retribution."

She didn't fight him on going farther out, but she didn't help him either. Snow cocked an eyebrow. "Well, now our clothes are all wet."

Once he was neck deep he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, hers wound around his shoulders. "They'll dry," he said dismissively.

Snow rolled her eyes but a smile was tugging at her lips; she pressed her forehead against his.

James raised one hand to tunnel his fingers into her loose braid, slowly working them through the pleat. As his fingers met little-to-no resistance combing through her locks, Snow realized that he had removed the tie at the end and her hair was soon floating free around her shoulders in the water like seaweed. His hand returned to cup the side of her face, his thumb gently tilted her chin slightly; his mouth slid over hers, parting her lips with his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders with a whimper.

Snow's shirt had worked free of her waistband, James' hand slid over the skin of her back. _Gods, she was soft_, he mentally groaned; he was unable to stop his palm from continuing to skim across the bared flesh.

"James," Snow gasped, arching into the touch. _Oh, goddess, they needed to stop!_ the rational voice managed to whisper through the pleasureful haze clouding her mind. Her head fell helplessly back.

Taking advantage of the bared skin, his mouth trailed from the corner of her lips, over her chin and down her throat, tongue running over her pulse. Snow's legs instinctively came up to wrap around his hips, drawing a groan from them both at the intimate contact. James' hand ran from her cheek, down her shoulder to join the other at her waist, thumbs caressing along her ribcage. Snow clasped his face between her palms, bringing his head up from where he was nibbling on the hollow of her throat, and claimed his mouth with hers. The hungry kiss drew a pained groan from James' throat; his tongue and lips began dueling hers for control.

A wave washed over their heads.

They pulled apart, gasping. With one arm still wrapped around his shoulders Snow used her other hand to push back her hair that the water had swept over her face; her legs drifted from his waist. James kept his arms around her waist as he waded, until they reached where she could stand and he lowered her until her feet were firmly on the bottom. Their eyes met and after a few moments they burst into laughter, clinging to each other's hands as the slowly, stumblingly made their way back to shore.

Once they had reached dry land again, James tugged on her hand, bringing her to a stop beside him, he brought his hands up to cradle her face and kissed her softly. She leaned into him, sighing against his lips.

Eventually he lifted his head, brushing his nose against hers, but then red flooded his face and he turned his head to the side. "Uh, we should get a fire started."

She frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. "What is it?"

He cleared his throat stiffly, still not looking at her. "We, uh, we need to get your shirt dry."

Snow glanced down and instantly heat flooded her cheeks as well; she crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh." She had forgotten that she was wearing a white shirt and what happened when white cloth got wet. The nearly transparent material left little to the imagination, and James was trying _very_ hard to be a gentleman.

He cleared his throat again. "There's–there's a spare blanket back over by the picnic; you can wrap yourself in it while we dry your shirt."

"Right," she mumbled, red-faced.

They stood there for a few moments longer, the draw to finish what they had begun in the surf still so strong and humming through their veins. Finally they forced themselves apart, each going in opposite directions, Snow to the blanket and James to search for firewood.

Snow used the opportunity while he was searching the tree line to drape the blanket about her and awkwardly remove her shirt.

After gathering the necessary kindling, James returned to the blanket and began lighting the fire; slowly coaxing it to life. Once it was large enough he set up a few taller branches he had found near the flames and draped Snow's shirt across them; this done he removed his own and repeated the process. Finally he moved to sit down a respectable distance from her on the blanket.

Snow hated the stretch of empty space between them, wishing it an eternity in Hades.

For several moments all that was heard was the rush of the waves and cries of gulls.

"I'm sorry." James' voice came out a bit rough; he was staring down at his fingers which were mercilessly twisting a twig.

She frowned. "For what?"

His gaze turned to the sea. "I have put you in a highly compromising situation, and a gentleman should never do so to any woman, much less the woman he loves and is courting."

Snow suppressed a smile; still gripping the blanket closed about her she scooted closer to him. His head turned, surprise flaring in his eyes as she settled down next to him, leaning into his side, her head on his shoulder.

"I am in _no way_ offended, James," she assured him, staring into the flames. "We're not a conventional couple, and honestly, I prefer it that way." She turned her head, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I love you. And I want us to do things _our_ way, not society's, or our parents', or the traditional way. I want us to do things how _we_ want to, not how anyone else _tells_ us to."

One of James' hands moved to cover the one she was using to brace herself on the sand, his fingers sliding between hers. His head canted closer to hers, lips centimeters from her own. "That's a rather…dangerously tempting way of doing things," his voice rasped.

Snow let her nose rub against his. "Perhaps," she quietly acknowledged. "But it seems to work for us."

"True," he agreed, a half smile quirking his lips.

A satisfied grin lit her face as she tilted her head down and pressed a soft kiss to his bare shoulder and then laid her cheek on it, eyes still on his.

"So," James tangled their fingers together, "our way?"

Snow nodded. "Our way."

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head and murmured into her dark locks, "Whatever that means."

A quiet laugh bubbled from her. "Whatever that means."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow didn't think she'd ever seen Red's eyebrows climb so high on her forehead in her entire life as the younger woman took in the couple's disheveled state upon their returning to Henry's house.

"I thought you were going for a ride?"

Snow easily dismounted from Aravis. "We did."

One eyebrow still cocked, Red eyed them from head to toe. "You both look like you took a swim in the sea. And since when did swimming become part of horseback riding?"

The princess just grinned broadly while the prince coughed into his fist.

After clearing his throat once more, James turned his gaze to Snow. "I'll be back for dinner."

Snow moved over beside his horse, where he was still mounted. "All right, see you then."

James leaned precariously down and brushed a loving kiss across her lips. "See you later." Sitting back up, he turned and urged Cain into a trot, only looking away from Snow when he got close to the tree line and needed to pay attention to where he was going.

Snow continued to watch as he rode off, grin bright on her face.

Red eyed her princess, arms crossed. "Do I _want_ to know what you've been up to?"

The grin on Snow's face became even wider, and then she turned to her friend. "Nothing you need to know about," she told her in a sing-song voice, sashaying off with her horse to the stables.

The younger woman rolled her eyes before heading to the house.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

An hour later Snow stepped out of her room, brushing her still-damp hair over her shoulder; she'd bathed and changed into a fresh dress and was now heading to the kitchen to help with dinner.

"Snow."

She turned at Liam's call; he stuck his head in from the front door as she passed. "Liam." She moved over to him. "Did you need something?"

He braced a hand against the doorframe, glancing toward the kitchen, before returning his gaze to her. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Snow shrugged. "Of course." She allowed him to guide her outside by her arm. "What is it?"

He led her enough of a distance from the house so as they wouldn't be overheard. "I'm sure you've noticed that I'm interested in Red."

She grinned. "And she in you. You two are a little less than subtle about it," she told him amusedly.

The general chuckled. "I suppose." His expression became more serious. "She's keeping me at arms-length, though."

Snow frowned.

He compressed his lips. "And she told me this morning that I 'didn't want' her; she was quite adamant about that fact."

The princess' expression fell, realization dawning as she looked down at the ground.

Liam eyed her assessingly. "I have a friend who has said similar things."

Snow's eyes slowly rose to his.

"She was attacked by a man…" He allowed the statement to trail off, implication clear.

She shook her head. "No, Red has never been harmed by a man in that way. That's not why she's pushing you away." Empathy was clear in her expression.

"Then why?"

The princess bit her lip. "I can't tell you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

She rubbed her hands together anxiously. "Because it's not my secret to tell." She tangled her fingers together. "All I can tell you is it isn't because of a man hurting her, not even really about _her_ getting hurt at all."

Liam frowned. "Then what?"

Her expression became pained. "I told you, I can't say. It's up to Red to tell you."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, but nodded.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

Thomas blew out a breath, wishing he was wherever his brother was, especially since Snow had mentioned Ella was accompanying her to see James in a note she sent to him via bluebird. It being the night before the solstice his parents were holding a dinner party for the guests who had come to stay in the castle. Swirling his drink Thomas amended that he wished he was just about _anywhere_ else at the moment. Sultan had already pestered him _twice_ about him possibly courting Jasmine, and he'd seen Midas question his parents _politely_ about James' absence; they told the king that he was off handling some contrived situation. From the way Midas had been eying Thomas most of the night, the prince had the feeling that the king really wanted to question him about it as well, probably a little _less_ politely though.

'And here he comes,' Thomas thought sardonically as the king began to weave his way toward him. The prince took a bracing swallow of the wine in his hand. "King Midas," he bowed, "how good to see you."

The monarch's jaw was set, obviously annoyed, but he nodded his head in perfunctory acknowledgement. "Prince Thomas."

Deciding not to beat around the bush, Thomas asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes," Midas told him tightly, "I'm curious about your brother's whereabouts."

"My parents told you, Your Majesty," the prince politely replied, "James is handling a situation in a distant village."

Shrewd eyes narrowed. "Yes, they said that, but they were rather vague about what the 'situation' was or the location of this 'village.'"

"I believe he said he was going to Thornfield," Thomas stated; it was a tiny village in their kingdom and one of the most distant as well. Thomas wondered if King Midas would even be able to find the place if he tried.

"Hmm." There was a grim set to the king's mouth. "You know, your brother should really learn about fulfilling his responsibilities."

A scathing retort lurked on the tip of Thomas' tongue and while he desperately wanted to voice it, he clenched his jaw shut instead.

"Now, Your Majesty," a familiar drawl smoothly cut in. Philip came to stand beside Thomas, grinning at the king pleasantly. "There is one thing you should know about James, which _anyone_ who is acquainted with him knows. Responsibility basically _defines_ James. He doesn't know _how_ to be irresponsible." The dark-haired prince gave a wry grin. "That's _my_ job."

King Midas scowled disapprovingly at Philip before turning on heel and moving off to speak with another group of nobles.

Thomas slowly let out a controlled breath. "Thank you," he told his friend lowly.

"As if I would let that oaf insult James like that," the dark-haired prince sardonically countered. "Now," his expression lost its usual mocking edge and became entirely serious, the side of Prince Philip that only his friends saw, "where the hell is James and why is he going so against his own nature and disappearing?"

The fair-haired prince met his friend's eyes, seeing that he wasn't going to be put off. He sighed and tilted his head to the side to indicate that they'd go for a walk. "Come on, it's a bit of a story."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Lochdubh_

_The next day. The summer solstice…_

The preparation process for the solstice festival in Lochdubh was quite similar to Everland's in that it was a small village and everyone pitched in to help. Children ran about laughing and playing, free from chores for the day, while adults smiled upon them with pleased indulgence. Pinocchio was a bit nervous at first about playing with the other children, but after some encouragement from Geppetto and Jiminy he was soon running amuck with the other youngsters, looking the most like a young child that any of the adults had ever seen him be, the too-old look in his eyes gone for the moment.

The adults laughed and talked as they set up for the celebration. The load of all the work that had to be done to prepare for the large lunch and the bonfire that night, made light with the many hands pitching in. Any drudgery that may have existed in having to put forth so much effort vanished with the laughter, jokes and talk that flowed easily.

The townspeople never even blinked at having nobles working alongside them in the chores. Visitors to the town had not a clue that the hands serving them a dish belonged to a crowned princess or that the arms lugging their table and chairs were those of a future king. It was a secret that the locals kept, one outsiders weren't privy to. And one that had been shared with Jiminy and Pinocchio just the night before. Pinocchio had frowned and asked if he should bow to Snow and James, which they assured him that at least while they were in Lochdubh the answer was no; the child had then nodded, accepting the answer, and continued to eat his dinner as if such news were an everyday occurrence. Jiminy had been a bit more thrown and it had taken him several moments longer to recover, but after the other humans had explained that the royal pair preferred to be treated no different than anyone else he had agreed to continue to do so.

Throughout the morning and afternoon Jiminy stayed with Geppetto, enjoying talking with the man and truly getting to know the person he had once been so determined to help. The cricket wondered how he could tell Geppetto that the man had saved his soul; that in trying so hard to help the woodworker Jiminy had found himself.

The craftsman had been talking about Pinocchio a great deal, marveling over the way the child took to woodworking, fatherly pride shining through. When he had questioned Jiminy about the child's education the cricket had to admit it was sadly lacking, having taken a back seat to survival and them having no access to materials. Geppetto wasn't discouraged by this; he asked about Jiminy's own knowledge and his plans for the future. The man wasn't even attempting subtlety; making it obvious what his intentions were. Jiminy admitted that if Geppetto wished to adopt Pinocchio he himself had no idea as to any plans for his own life. This prompted the woodworker to ask if he would consider staying and helping with the child's education since Geppetto's own time would be limited in attending to it due to his work. Handed the chance to remain close to the two people who mattered most in his life, what other answer could Jiminy give but yes?

Finally Geppetto had anxiously inquired if Jiminy thought Pinocchio would accept if the woodworker asked to adopt him. The cricket, who had been privy to Pinocchio's whispered confessions of hopes and dreams, assured him that the child would most happily agree.

Pinocchio and a few of the other village boys scurried around behind the men who were building the main bonfire, which was going to be larger than usual since it was the largest celebration of the year, and the smaller secondary ones. The children were permitted by the men to carry smaller branches over to the growing piles. Between laughing with his new friends Pinocchio would jabber to James and Liam who were helping in the process, bringing wide smiles to the two men's faces.

Throughout the day James kept catching Liam's eyes straying to Red, almost more often than even the prince's own did to Snow.

"You know, this watching-from-afar routine is really out of character for you," James commented wryly as he sat down on a log next to his general, offering him a skin of water. "Normally you would go right up and talk to her."

Liam grimaced before taking a drink. "I did that."

The prince cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

His friend handed him the skin back. "She was pretty insistent that _I_ couldn't _possibly_ want _her_."

James frowned. "Did she say why?" he asked, raising the water to his lips.

Liam shook his head. "I asked Snow, but she said that she couldn't say; that it was up to Red to tell me. Though, she was adamant that Red hadn't been hurt like Belle."

"Have you asked her?" James poured some of the water over his head to cool down a bit more and handed it to his friend again.

The general accepted the skin. "She's been avoiding me."

"And?" The prince cocked an eyebrow. "When has something like that ever stopped you?"

Liam stared at his friend for a few moments before a smirk quirked his lips. "Never." He poured the rest of the water over his own head.

James clapped the other man on the back and the pair returned to work, grinning.

Meanwhile Snow, Ella and Red were shucking corn and Red was being grilled in low voices by the other two about Liam.

"It's unkind leaving him like that without any real reason for it," Snow gently but frankly admonished her friend.

"And what am I _supposed_ to tell him?" the other dark-haired woman hissed back. "The truth?" At the princess's responding look she scowled. "Be serious," Red snapped.

"I am," Snow stated flatly.

"What can the harm be?" Ella softly put in.

Red's eyes snapped to the blonde. "'What can the harm be?'" Her voice was sharp and nearly a sneer. "Perhaps I don't want to have _another_ person looking at me with fear, especially him!"

"We don't look at you with fear," her blond friend pointed out. Ella had taken the truth of Red's "inheritance" with surprising calm and acceptance.

"Yes, well Snow's _always_ known, and I have this belief that you have _no_ sense of self-preservation," Red countered testily.

Snow threw the ear she had just shucked into the pot at her feet with a little more force that necessary, her sharp gaze turning on her stubborn friend. "_You're_ the one who's been telling me for _years_ not to give up on love!"

"What?" Red sneered. "You think I should endanger a man with my 'problem' and possibly pass this…this…_curse_ on to a child?"

The intensity of the princess' sharp gaze turned up several notches. "And what if _he's_ willing to risk his own life?"

Red felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach.

"What if he loves you _that_ much?" Snow continued ruthlessly.

The younger dark-haired woman looked away to stare in the direction of the sea.

They were all silent for several moments.

"Are you really willing to give up the possibility of such a love and the happiness it could bring you?" Ella quietly inquired.

Red's eyes slid shut as tears began burning behind them.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sun was setting and the fires had been lit. Food sprawled across tabletops, taps flowed freely and instruments were tuned up. It was already looking to be a great party and the night hadn't even begun.

After the long day out in the hot sun, James and Liam had gone back to Geppetto's to wash up and change before coming to the party; according to Jiminy, Snow, Red and Ella had returned to their own abode to do the same. The prince had gone most of the day and only spent about two hours with his beloved so far. He was aching to have her with him, and he _definitely_ wanted the chance to dance with her in his arms. His eyes scanned the crowd almost continuously, watching for the princess and her two friends.

"Looking for me, Charming?"

A grin spread across James' face before he turned. And the air was abruptly sucked out of his lungs.

Snow was wearing a style of dress popular around Lochdubh–the bohemian attitudes and lifestyle of the town definitely bled into their clothing–this particular type of dress was called a "wrap-around." It literally did as the name implied; to put it on one wrapped it around their body, slipping their arms through the sleeves, and a tie would be knotted at the hip, keeping it closed. But the truly tantalizing thing about the dress wasn't that it clung to every dip and curve of her body, it was the knowledge that all it would take to remove it was simply untying that one flimsy knot.

_Gods preserve him!_

A coy smile lit her face as she made her way toward him with a slow, graceful stride, hips swaying provocatively.

_Oh, goddess._

Desire slammed him in the gut, pooling there. Gods, he wanted her.

The thin white material billowed around her legs as she came to a stop in front of him; she lifted the glass from his near-slack grip and, keeping her eyes locked on his, sipped his drink.

"Not quite Happy's brew," Snow commented, humor threading her voice as she handed the glass back to him.

James took the drink back, unable to look away from the seductive siren before him.

She loosely wove her fingers together behind her back, swaying slightly from side to side, her smile still flirtatious. "Are you planning on dancing with me tonight, Charming?"

He reached out with his free hand, allowing it to skate from her upper arm, bared by the short sleeves of the dress, down her back, curving around her waist; drawing her against him. "Oh, yes," he said huskily, bending his head close to hers, noting the stargazer lily that had been pinned into the back of her hair with a half-grin.

Snow grinned, rubbing her nose against his. "Good," she whispered back. She then rose on her toes and quickly pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, before lowering to her soles again, grinning at him brightly. "Now, you can get me a drink."

With a laugh, he backed up slightly but kept a hand against the small of her back as he guided her over to the taps.

After she was drawn a pint they moved over to a half-empty table, going to the unoccupied end. James gave her a hand down onto the bench, where she curled her bare feet under her. He then settled himself next to her, hardly a breath of space between them.

James took one of her hands and wove his fingers with hers; bringing them up to study the knotted digits. "You know," he told her thoughtfully, running one of his thumbs along her knuckles, "now that we have decided that we're going to get married, something we haven't talked about yet that's a _little_ important, is how we're going to handle both of us being heirs to kingdoms." He gave her a wry grin.

A half sigh half self-deprecating laugh escaped her lips. "I guess that's something we're going to have to think about, isn't it?"

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Just maybe."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "I've spent my life preparing to take over ruling _one_ kingdom."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders. "As have I. So how are we going to deal with _two_?"

After a thoughtful silence Snow tilted her head up to look at him. "What do you want to do?"

James pressed his lips to her forehead. "Honestly, if I could have it my way we would run off and just live as common folk somewhere quiet and secluded, far from the drama and political machinations of Court."

"Hmm." A smile spread across her lips. "Sounds nice, quiet and sane."

"And totally unattainable for us," he murmured wryly into her hair.

A soft laugh whispered from her. "Indeed."

His fingers gently drew a line up and down her arm. "Rule together and then allow whichever of our children best suit the thrones to inherit?"

Snow tipped her head back, eyes meeting his. "Child_ren_? Are you planning on more than one, Charming?"

He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "As long as that's all right with you, most definitely."

She grinned at him brightly, settling her head back into the crook of his shoulder. "Sounds like a plan."

James continued to let his hand drift up and down her bare arm. "You want multiple children?"

"Mm hmm," Snow nodded against his shoulder. "Being an only child can get lonely."

"When we met again in Everland, you said that you spent enough time with the other children in the village that it didn't."

She looked up at him. "Do you remember _everything_ I've said?" she gently teased.

He grinned back. "Well…not _everything_ perhaps…"

She stifled a laugh; tilting her head back into place. "The other children along with Red, Aurora, Gaspard and Eric helped make it _less_ lonely, but honestly…I always wished that I had a sister or brother." A quiet smile curled her lips. "I've always wanted more than one child."

"Well, it's good to know that's something we agree on," James told her.

"Hmm," she softly affirmed.

They sat in companionable silence for several moments watching their fellow revelers, the band had struck up a tune and dancers whirled around.

Across the nearest fire they observed Red doing her level best to duck Liam, while the general determinedly dogged her.

"Do you think those two will work it out?" James quietly questioned.

Snow lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "If Red will stop being stubborn and explain, then perhaps."

Their dark-haired friend darted over to them.

"Here we go," the prince muttered just before Red reached them.

"Snow, they're going to be playing Flacon de Neige next." She reached out a hand to the princess. "We'd better find partners if we want to dance it."

James tightened his arms around the woman wrapped in them. "She already has a partner."

Both women turned surprised gazes on him.

Red's expression became amused and she propped a hand on her hip, a smirk pulling at her lips. "I thought you didn't know how to dance the Flacon de Neige."

"Three months ago I didn't."

"And you do now?"

His fingers danced over Snow's arms, tilting his head down to gaze at her. "Let's just say that I was quite motivated to learn."

His princess grinned up at him before turning to her friend. "Looks like I already am spoken for."

Red rolled her eyes as she turned away, saying, "Of course you are."

Snow laced her fingers with his, biting her lip. "You know we don't have to dance it if you don't want to."

James dipped his head down to steal a kiss. "But I _do_ want to." He brushed his nose against hers, before slowly releasing his hold on her, though retaining one of her hands and stood up, helping her to her feet as well. "We had best get out there."

Her grin was radiant as she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

After leaving Everland, one of the first things that James had done was seek out someone to teach him to dance the Flacon de Neige. It had taken some doing but he'd eventually found a young couple working in the castle who had family in Everland and knew it. He had learned that the dance was entirely as complicated to perform as it had looked. Not only was it a complicated set to memorize but there were two "versions" of it.

One version was chaste enough that any pair could dance it, but the second version was a much more intimate one. The partners moved much closer, touches went beyond what was ordinarily allowed between a couple without an understanding; this version was meant to only be performed by engaged and married couples, though some allowance was usually made for ones who had a strong understanding.

The couples were set in two circles, the women inside the men's; both groups started the dance facing inward, men facing the women and the women with their backs to the men. With the start of the music the man would step forward and reach to brush a lock of hair over the woman's shoulder, or at least pretend to if her hair was pulled up. The woman would tilt her head in his direction; at the cue of the song she would turn around entirely to face him bringing her hand up, as if to hold the man off, and this is where the two versions began to differ. The woman was the one who proposed the level of intimacy for the dance in this moment; if she rested her hand against his chest then she was indicating that she wished to perform the more intimate version; otherwise her hand would remain suspended between them for a moment indicating the other. From there the dance became a carefully controlled whirl of bodies; earning its name from the dancers looking like snowflakes interweaving.

James and Snow took their positions and the music began flowing. James' fingers ran over her dark curls lingeringly; he could see her pressing her lips together to suppress a smile as her head canted in his direction. When it came time for her to spin to face him her expression was properly controlled, and her hand landed on his chest firmly, unmistakably. His pulse skittered at the contact and the intent look in her eyes. Technically speaking they should not be dancing this version, they might have a private understanding, but for their own reputations' sakes they should have an official one before dancing this. However, Lochdubh was a great deal more forgiving of such lapses in etiquette and people were all-too-happy to turn a blind eye to certain things. And James couldn't have denied himself the chance to hold her even closer in his arms for the world.

Throughout the dance Snow made her movements as teasing as possible, pushing his self-control to its limits. In his frustration he found himself "pushing" back, taunting her, holding her closer and a heartbeat longer than necessary.

When the music finally drew to a close and they had bowed and curtseyed respectively, their eyes locked. For several moments they were unable to move, hearts racing, desire heating their blood.

Red and Ella grabbed Snow and dragged her off to perform another dance that was just for the women. James stared after them, unable to look away from the dark-haired beauty even as he moved to the taps for another drink.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Red was laughing with Snow, Ella and a few other women when a strong, calloused hand closed firmly over her arm. She whirled around, but she didn't need to look to know who would be standing there, the shocks cascading down her spine and stirring her blood told her quite clearly enough.

Liam smiled at her pleasantly, thinly-veiling annoyance. "I believe I'll claim the next dance with you."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" He kept his voice light.

"It's a bad idea." The strain of forcing herself to hold him at a distance threaded her voice.

"It's just a dance, Red," he told her lowly.

Oh, how she wanted to agree, but she _really_ shouldn't. Red turned to her two friends who seemed to be _quite_ absorbed in a conversation about a dress Snow was hoping Ella could help her make.

No aid on that front.

She turned back to the man before her. _What could one dance hurt?_ a traitorous voice questioned. She was so tired of fighting it. Why couldn't she give in and allow herself this one moment to hold to her heart in the long, cold, lonely years to come?

"All right," she finally acquiesced in a soft voice.

Dancing with Liam was the most wonderful experience she'd ever had, but also the most heartrending, being in his arms and knowing that she couldn't stay in them. Why had she thought this would be a good idea? His touch was steady and sure, and his eyes…_oh_, could she have ever even _dreamed_ of a man looking at her like that? It tore through the walls around her heart and made her want to weep.

The song finally ended and she began to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her wrist. "How about another dance?"

Red squeezed her eyes shut. "Why?" she pleaded.

"Why what?"

She turned a tortured gaze to him. "Why are you doing this?"

He met her eyes honestly. "Because I want to show you that I _do_ want you."

"No you don't!" There was a hysterical edge to her voice.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "How do you know that if you won't tell me the reason you think I won't?"

"Because no man ever _has_." She was blinking furiously. "Most people can't handle finding out, and I don't want you to look at me like they do!"

He frowned, uncomprehendingly.

"Please, Liam," she begged. "Let me go."

For several heartbeats he did nothing but stare searchingly into her eyes and then, rather than releasing her, he pulled her closer so that there was hardly any space between them and bent his head close to hers. "No, Red," he stated firmly. "I'm not going to let you go. I'm not going to force you to tell me, but I'm not going to leave you either."

Her wide eyes gazed up into his.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Red?" Liam asked.

She swallowed thickly at the intent look he was giving her.

"No matter what happens," he continued, "I'm always going to be here, whenever you're ready."

Her heart was racing.

He slowly loosened his grip on her arm, allowing it to slip from his grasp. They remained frozen there for a few moments–a lifetime–before Liam, keeping his eyes ever on her, bowed and slowly made his way to where James was standing.

Red continued to stare after him, knowing that a piece of her heart had just walked off.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella was sitting next to Geppetto near the band, listening to the music, not hearing a note, and allowing her eyes to wander over the party sightlessly.

"Are things nicer where you are?"

She jolted at the genial tone beside her, turning to face the kindly woodworker. "Sorry?"

Geppetto chuckled, wrapping his arm more securely around Pinocchio who was slumped against his side, long since asleep. "You were many miles away."

Ella had the good grace to blush. "I'm so sorry; I'm being horrible company."

The apology easily was waved off. "Nothing to apologize for." His gaze became inquiring. "What were you thinking about?" When her blush deepened a bit of realization dawned on him. "Or should I say _who_?"

She ran a finger around the rim of her cup. "I'm just missing…Thomas." She glanced at him confidingly.

"Ah," the man nodded with understanding. "Principe had mentioned that you and his brother had taken an interest in each other."

Ella smiled down at her cup. "I – well…I suppose…I mean nothing has precisely been _said_... But…I've never felt like this about any man before."

A soft chuckle slipped from Geppetto's lips, Pinocchio briefly stirred but immediately settled once more. "According to Principe James his brother is…how did he put it? That he is a 'gone man?' That Principe Thomas is 'head-over-heels' for you."

Her teeth bit her lip, the words causing her heart to skip in her chest. "Did James really say that?"

"I am not one to tell tales, Ella."

Her hands tightened around her glass and she lifted her eyes to the crescent moon. "I miss him so much. I just want to see him again, more than anything."

Geppetto reached over with his free hand and patted one of hers. "And I have no doubt that you will, the moment that he hears you have returned home I'm sure Principe Thomas will come to visit as soon as he is able."

Ella gave him a hopeful smile before turning her gaze once more to the glittering sky.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James found himself separated from Snow for over an hour with barely enough time to ask her how she was enjoying herself the one moment he was near enough to her, before she was whisked off again. They continued to catch each other's eyes though, she sent him teasing looks that kept the desire in his gut from dissipating in the slightest. Oh, was it ever frustrating…

Eventually she disappeared around a group; his eyes began seeking her out earnestly, but for several minutes he couldn't find her. Worry began to creep in–Lochdubh wasn't _that_ big of a town–his gaze searching relentlessly. Then he caught sight of her coming from nearly the opposite direction of where she had been. Apparently she'd managed to slip her friends and was sauntering toward him; there was a small bowl in her hand and she was licking its contents off of her fingers.

_Oh, gods…_

"Charming," she greeted him, eyes sparkling impishly.

"Princess," he managed in a near-normal tone, gaze intent on her.

She bit her lip stepping a bit closer. "Have you ever had _Lacrimae Lunaris_ honey?" She dipped a fingertip into the bowl, which he now took to contain the aforementioned honey, and then delicately lifted it to her lips, drawing it off.

He had realized early on in the evening that she was trying to seduce him, and honestly, even with all of the reasons why they _shouldn't_, he hadn't been able to bring himself to ask her to stop, and he certainly couldn't _now_.

He swallowed hard. "No, I don't believe I have."

She held the bowl up to him. "Would you like to try some?"

She had dipped two fingers into the bowl again and was about to bring them to her lips. James was more than ready to turn the tables by now. He quickly reached out and cinched her wrist in his hand, surprise flared in her eyes. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he bent his head and drew her fingers into his mouth.

She visibly sucked in a breath, a flush spreading over her skin. The fluttering beneath his fingers was fast as a hummingbird's wing.

His tongue curled around the digits before slowly releasing them.

Snow's eyes were dilated; her lips parted helplessly.

They stared at each other, immobile for several heartbeats, Snow trying to gather at least a few of her wits and James waiting to see what she would do.

With one deep breath she closed the last of the space between them, furling her free hand in the front of his shirt and pushing herself up on her toes to press her lips to his. The kiss was searing, but it wasn't unbridled passion, no it was something far more dangerous. Love, desire, and a silent plea for more; appealing to him on all levels.

Slowly she lowered herself once again to her soles, eyes gazing up at him.

James swallowed thickly. "Snow…" he rasped.

She caught her lip between her teeth anxiously before taking a deep breath. "I'm tired…walk me home?"

After a heartbeat of hesitation James reached out, taking the bowl from her and set it down on a nearby table. He then placed a hand at the small of her back and began guiding her away from the party, down the path that led to Henry's house.

The walk was silent; fraught with desire so thick they could hardly draw breath.

James' hand at her back was scalding and Snow felt like her heart was going to pound right out of her chest.

For them the journey to the house was an eternity enclosed heartbeat.

At the threshold they turned to face each other. Snow was trembling with aching desire and pulse-pounding nerves.

James stepped forward, allowing his fingers to ghost up and down her arms. "Snow, if you're not ready for this…" His gaze intent on hers, he swallowed visibly, fingers naturally twining with hers. "I can just kiss you goodnight and leave."

She allowed his willingness to accept her decision, regardless of what it was, to sink in. "Is that what you want?"

"Snow," he breathed. A rueful chuckle slipped from his lips as he lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. "There are thousands of reasons why we shouldn't even be _thinking_ about doing this…but gods help me," his hand rose to settle around her throat, thumb caressing over her pulse, "I can't bring myself to care about them. I want you."

The stark words sent a spike of heat racing through her blood. Heart pounding, Snow slowly rose on her toes bringing their lips millimeters apart; James didn't move an inch. After the briefest of pauses she closed the last bit of distance between their lips.

After a moment their lips parted; their eyes were instantly locked. Snow reached behind her for the handle of the door, twisting it open, she backed into the house, pulling James with her. He nudged the door shut with his heel, before following her down the hall to her room. At her door he swept her up in his arms, eliciting a surprised gasp from her; but she was instantly melting into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders. She pressed her lips to his throat, allowing them to explore the texture of the skin there.

James kicked the door closed behind him; he made his way over to the bed and gently set his beloved down on it. Snow sat up watching as he sat down on the edge near her; he reached down, pulling off his boots, his movements unhurried. There was no rush between them, they had the night and both wanted this to last.

Once he was done he turned back to her and crawled toward her. Snow lay back, letting him come to rest above her, bracing his weight on his elbows. Her fingers rose to trace each of his features, his eyes slid closed at the light caress, when the digits brushed his lips he allowed himself to press a kiss to them, but to remain otherwise passive until she went further. Eventually the tips of her fingers came to rest over the scar on his chin. At her stillness his eyes slowly opened to meet her gaze. Her eyes flicked back and forth between his; she then lifted her head, her hand sliding to cup his jaw, coaxing his head down to hers, which he obliged.

James let his tongue glide past her lips, savoring the taste of her. Snow nipped at his bottom lip earning her an approving moan. He pulled back a bit, shifting his weight to one arm. He watched his now free hand slowly skim up her arm and over her shoulder. Snow's heart began to beat double-time as his fingers traced the lace-edged neckline of her dress; her pulse went skittering as his hand passed down the center of her chest. He continued following the line until he reached the tie at her waist; his eyes lifted to hers, asking permission.

Snow swallowed and nodded.

Fingers slowly pulled at the bow the strings were tied in; her heart raced as she felt the dress loosen around her. Rather than just unwrapping the garment from there his hand went back to her shoulder where he began to push the dress down her arm, his lips following it. Snow's head fell back as his mouth trailed down her chest, pushing the fabric away as he went.

James was supremely grateful that Snow didn't favor corsets, trying to get her out of that contraption would have been hell.

Their lips melded together, Snow eagerly helped rid him of his own clothing and soon there was nothing between them.

Hands wandered, exploring and learning – or what felt more like _re-_learning to them if they were honest with themselves, they knew too well what would make the other moan and writhe with pleasure. However, neither was really of a mind to notice this fact at the moment.

When their bodies joined for the first time Snow cried out in pain, tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. James began kissing her face, words slipping from his lips heedlessly.

Her eyes were screwed shut, unsure of how to respond to the pain. Then other things began to register, James' lips pressing to every inch of her face worshipfully, murmured words of apology and love, the dampness of his own cheeks and the tremors that were shaking his frame at not only the effort of remaining still against his baser urges, but with the pain of, at least in his eyes, having hurt her. She didn't want him to blame himself in any way; she didn't want him suffering for something she wanted just as much as he did. She cupped his face between her palms; this caught his attention and he let her draw his face to hers. Mouths once more mated to each other, her tongue slid against his, inviting his own response.

It didn't take long for the pain to recede and soon they were moving together in passion again. When she shattered in his arms he followed her over the edge, giving a hoarse cry.

They lay panting in one another's embrace, hearts pounding against each other.

After a handful of heartbeats James roused himself enough to roll over, bringing her with him; she sprawled across his chest. They continued to breathe heavily in each other's arms, waiting for their hearts to return to a semi-normal pace. Once they could manage it they tugged the covers loose on the bed and slipped under them. Snow snuggled into his side, arm wrapping around his waist and head settled on his chest, ear pressed to his heart. James' arms wrapped around her like iron bands, as if afraid someone would come and try to steal her from him.

"I love you, James," she whispered against his heart. "For all eternity."

His heart raced at the familiar promise that a couple usually only made upon their marriage vows, but between them, before she even had an engagement ring on her finger, if felt right.

"I love you too, for all eternity," he vowed in return.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Fate's nimble fingers began to slowly twist two strands together. Her child looked on with wonder and the dawning understanding that these were never two strands but one that was being re-wound as promises were remade. Ties unbroken._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, what did you guys think? How did you guys like Red and Liam and my bringing in her "wolfy" problem? (You will be seeing more of them in the next chapter!) Those of you asking for more Ella and Thomas, I promise it is coming! Philip, I've been sooooo…wanting to write more for him ever since he FINALLY explained to me why he is the way he is and I'm REALLY looking forward to telling his and Aurora's story! :-D I hope that you guys liked it! Thank you so much for reading!


	13. Chapter 11: ReWinding M Version

**THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION! THIS IS THE M VERSION!**

Thank you soooooo much everyone for all the support, reviews, alerts, faves and tweets! Well here is it you guys! The "M" version of chapter 11! (And honestly I like this version better! It was a rollercoaster writing it, but I wrote the intimate scene with my wonderful cheerleader beta helping me not back down from it! And I'm proud of the effort I put in; it was really hard cutting around through it to make it "T".) Anywho. Nothing vulgar, most will probably find if fairly tame really, but I'm not someone who writes smut so, there you have it. A side note, I have had so many questions about this story and the differences between it and cannon and what the heck is actually up, etc. Here's the premise basically: The curse was broken and not only was everyone returned to FTL but time was turned back SUBSTANTIALLY and things were VASTLY changed as well over time, to quote Aslan from Narnia, "things can't happen twice the same way." Some things will be different, some things that happened originally may happen differently or not at all. This is a post-curse, AU; I will be working as much of what happens in the show into the story as I go as I can manage but some things just won't fit with the story I'm telling. So, here's a warning now, don't always expect things to be entirely true to cannon.

**Sassy18**, dearie, how can I thank you enough for the advice, edits and your input? Thank you sooooo…much! :-D

Just to reiterate: ** THIS IS THE M VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER!**

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 11: Re-Winding**

The next morning when James arrived at the kitchen door of Henry's house not only was it unlocked for the first time in three days, but it was wide open. Even though he knew this was Snow's way of telling him that he was welcome he rapped lightly on the door before he stepped through, wanting to give her some warning.

Snow grinned at him over her shoulder from her position at the stove. "Good morning, Charming."

His heart leapt at the teasing greeting; he'd missed it over the days she ignored him. "Good morning," he returned.

She turned back to the pan where she was cooking eggs. "Scrambled all right with you?"

A grin played at his lips. "And if it wasn't?"

"Then you'd go hungry," she glibly informed him.

James chuckled. "Scrambled is fine."

He moved across the room until he stood directly behind her; with one hand he brushed her hair over her shoulder before settling both of them on her waist. James bent his head forward to skim his lips from the joint of her shoulder and neck, up the column of her throat, then ghosting them over the shell of her ear. He saw her mouth curling into a smile as she tilted her head to accommodate his ministrations.

"Do I get a good morning kiss?" His lips traced the line of her jaw.

A grin was trying to spread across her face. "I'm making breakfast."

He reached around to take the pan from her and set it off to the side; he then turned her to face him. Snow had finally stopped fighting the grin and it was radiant; she ran her hands up his chest to wind around his neck. James splayed his hands across her back drawing her against him; he bent his head, brushing his lips softly against hers.

"I thought that you wanted to kiss me good morning," she taunted him.

"Oh, I do," he assured her, chuckling. He proved his point a moment later, taking possession of her mouth in a searing kiss.

Snow pushed herself up on her toes, pressing her body closer to his; James moaned at feeling her curves flush against him. He loved how uninhibited she was in showing how much she wanted him, though it also drove him crazy, straining his own self-control to its limits.

When their lips parted Snow peppered small teasing kisses along his jaw.

"Snow," he groaned, firming his grip on her waist and pushing her back to look down at her, "I'm only human."

Her cheeks were lightly tinged with pink, but there was an impish gleam in her eyes as she grinned at him.

His eyes narrowed. "You did that on purpose."

She was biting her lip, holding in a laugh.

Cocking an eyebrow, he gave her a dry look. "That's cruel."

Raising her hand and pushing him back with one finger to his chest, she teasingly told him, "I have breakfast to make." Snow turned back to the stove, returning the pan to the burner so that the eggs could finish cooking.

James watched her for a few moments, before stepping up right behind her again. He leaned his head in over her shoulder; he could see a self-satisfied smile gracing her lips. "Still playing unfairly?"

"If you recall," humor threaded her tone, "_I_ wasn't the one who started it." She turned her head to look at him. "And you can't say that it's not totally undeserved."

He smirked back at her. "I admit nothing."

Snow's expression became teasing. "Of course you don't."

They were grinning at each other within moments.

"Would you please get the plates and mugs?" She pointed at one of the cabinets.

"Of course." He leaned in pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her lips before going to do as she requested. "What were you planning to do today?" he asked.

"I don't have any plans." Snow looked at him. "What were you thinking of?"

He set the dishes down on the counter near the stove and leaned his hip against it, facing her. "I was going to go out for a horseback ride. Would you like to join me?"

A grin lit up her face, chased by a teasing smirk. "Do you think you and Cain can keep up with me and Aravis?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Snow came to meet him down by the stables, but her wearing cream-colored breeches and white men's shirt while leading the golden mare by the reins definitely hadn't been anywhere in his imagination. He could now see why women were expected to wear long coats while riding, the breeches conformed to her curves perfectly and, without the coat, his view of her form was unhindered. The shirt wasn't at all form-fitting; in fact, it was loose, but the fabric draped over the dips and curves of her torso intriguingly.

Her grin was teasing, eyes sparkling as she approached him. "See something you like, Charming?" The braid she'd pleated her hair into slid over her shoulder when she canted her head to the side; a few curls had worked free to brush her cheeks.

He stepped closer, the hand that wasn't holding Cain's reins coming up to gently grip her waist, he bent his head to hers; their lips met and clung. Snow's free hand rose to clench her fingers in the front of his dark green shirt; a soft moan drifted from her throat.

After a few moments James lifted his head, opening his eyes to meet her sparkling ones. "Does that answer your question?" he asked huskily.

She grinned, rising on her toes to quickly kiss him again. "Maybe, Charming." She pecked him once more and then lowered to her soles, pulling away to adjust Aravis' girth. "How long will we be staying out?"

James looped the reins over Cain's head. "Well, I brought some leftovers for lunch, so until dinner if we want."

Snow cast him a grin over her shoulder before mounting. "Good." Once in the saddle her eyes glinted impishly at him. "Then I'll race you to the cove!" She urged Aravis to sprint off.

He swung up onto Cain's back, kicking the war horse into a gallop. "That's cheating, Princess!"

She glanced over her shoulder, laughing at him as she shouted, "Don't be a sore loser, Charming!"

"I haven't lost yet, Princess!" he yelled back. "Nor have you won!"

They raced through lanes, woods and beaches to the cove, the person in the lead changed over and over. Just as they reached the cove Snow pulled out in front and won the race, though James wasn't a neck-length behind her. She was the first one to begin dismounting but he was only a second behind her and faster in getting off of Cain, so by the time her feet touched sand he was already there, picking her up by her waist.

"You're a cheat, Princess." His fingers began dancing over her sides.

Snow shrieked with laughter, squirming in his arms, trying to get away. "I believe–" she gasped, "there's a saying–" her laugher redoubled, "that all's fair in love and war." She continued to writhe, trying to get free.

Her struggles became enough that James had to lower her to the ground, where she lay on her back still guffawing; he followed her down, propping himself on his elbows above her. Her laughter was slowly petering off as she gazed up at him, fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeves; her expression became inquiring. "What are you thinking about?"

"Well," he dipped his head down to skim his nose across her cheek and then back again to rub it against hers, "I'm thinking that for the first time, I have you all to myself with little-to-no time constraint and even smaller chance of us being interrupted."

She ran her hands up his arms to wind around his shoulders, pulling him closer so that their lips were lightly brushing. "What do you think we should do with all of this uninterrupted time?"

He grinned. "I'm sure we'll think of something." And with that his mouth settled over hers.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So, did my prince run off with your princess again?"

Red was sitting on the porch of Henry's cottage in one of the carved, wooden lounge chairs–Geppetto's work was as superb as ever–she took a deep breath, trying to quell her racing heartbeat at Liam's sardonic question. What was it about this man that got under her carefully woven defenses, could make her pulse skitter and breath catch? Part of her wanted nothing more than to turn around and banter flirtingly with him; she _liked_ the heat that he sent coursing through her veins. She ruthlessly pushed it all aside, reminding herself of all of the reasons why she _shouldn't_ like him at all and the reason she _couldn't_ be with him, or _any_ man. "Snow left a note saying that she went out riding with James; they'll be back for dinner," she told him, not even glancing up from the book she was reading.

"Where's Ella?"

She was acutely aware of Liam moving from the doorway behind her and around to sprawl in the chair across from her. His easy, lazy movements had Red's heart pounding. Damn it! It was wholly unfair of the fates to place the first man she'd ever been at all attracted to in front of her like this when she _couldn't_ have him and after she'd finally contented herself with spinsterhood.

"She's at the market; she saw a few bolts of cloth the other day and decided to go back for the ones she wanted before the festival tomorrow. Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy?" She felt joy bloom through her at the thought of those three. She and the others had been overjoyed at how close Geppetto and Pinocchio had grown over the last few days. Speaking with Jiminy they'd discovered just how affection-starved Pinocchio was; what they had been giving him he soaked up like a bone-dry sponge. But he seemed to seek it out the most from Geppetto, who was more than happy to provide it. The boy spent hours at the craftsman's elbow absorbing everything that the man had to teach him about woodworking. Last night the child had fallen asleep leaning into Geppetto's side while the man was telling him a story.

"They decided to go fishing early this morning; won't be back until late afternoon." Out of the corner of her eye she saw him grin broadly. "Guess it's just you and me."

Red suppressed the flutter of her pulse. "No, it's just _you_. I'm reading." She raised the book in her hands to emphasize the statement, keeping her eyes on the pages.

He snatched the book out of her hands.

"Hey!" She attempted to grab it back but he pulled it away.

His gaze met Red's head on. "Why are you putting me off?"

She set her jaw, attempting to maintain a glare. "Why do you keep bothering me?"

Liam's eyes were intent on hers. "Because I want to."

_Because I want you_, the real meaning behind his words knocked the wind out of Red.

A stricken expression flashed across her face before she could cover it. Taking a deep breath she reasserted her stoic façade, stood and took the book back, keeping her eyes locked on his. "You _don't_ want me."

He sat back gazing at her levelly. "How do you know that?"

Her jaw locked, pain flaring in her eyes. "Trust me. I _know_. And you do _not_ want me." Red spun on heel and briskly strode back into the house.

Liam watched her retreat, before turning and staring out over the beach. Water lapped at the sand, the hushed rush of the small waves hitting the shore softly countered the chirps of the birds and whisper of the wind. He frowned deeply, Red's words echoing in his mind.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow and James had removed the saddles from their horses and tied them off by the reins to a couple of nearby trees. They pulled out the food and blankets they had brought; Snow spread one of them out on the ground while James set their things on top of it. She then sat down and proceeded to pull off one of her boots.

James raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

She smirked at him, teasing, "Taking my shoes off, what does it look like?"

"I can see that," he countered wryly, "_why_ though?"

She rolled down her sock and stuffed it inside the boot. "I want to go walking down by the water." Her head canted to the side coyly as she tugged off her other boot. "Want to join me?"

With a grin he sat down beside her and began copying her movements. Snow stuck her other sock into its boot and stood, staring down at him, waiting. Chucking, he finished removing his own boots and rose to his feet, taking her hand in his; they walked down to the water side-by-side. Snow stopped once the waves could reach their feet and grinned, watching the water wash over her toes.

"You like the sea?" James asked.

She lifted her head, eyes sparkling. "Yes." Her gaze turned to the distant, shimmering horizon. "I love the mountains, woods, fields and lakes of my home, but I do enjoy being by the ocean here."

He lifted their linked hands to kiss the back of hers. "Well, that's certainly good to hear, considering that most of my kingdom is on the water," he gently joked.

She turned to him, a sassy grin on her face. "Why, are you _implying_ something, Charming?"

He tugged on her hand, grinning back at her. "Not at all." He leaned his head down, covering her mouth with his.

Her free hand curled into his shirt; James' palm pressed against the small of her back drawing her closer to him. A cold splash against his knees caused him to jerk his head back; there were water spots on the knees of his breeches and droplets rolling down his legs. Snow was grinning up at him impishly, the toes of her right foot stirring the water that had settled back around their feet.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don't want to start that, Princess."

"Why," she kicked more water at him, "not?"

"Oh," he began moving toward her; Snow countered each of his steps with one backward, "because I'm going to have to take retribution."

A giddy grin spread across her face. "Retribution?"

His eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh, yes."

Abruptly he swooped in and scooped her up in his arms; she was laughing, clinging to his neck. James began striding deeper into the water; upon realizing what he was doing, Snow tightened her arms around him crying through her laughter, "No, James! No!"

"Retribution, Princess," he chuckled.

When the water was above his knees James allowed himself to fall backward into the water, Snow still cradled to his chest; she yelped as they splashed into the salty surf.

They surfaced quickly in the shallows, she spluttering and he laughing. Snow glared at the man beside her and sent a wave of water at him. "Very funny, Charming."

He caught her hand and began pulling her with him out to deeper water. "I told you, Princess, retribution."

She didn't fight him on going farther out, but she didn't help him either. Snow cocked an eyebrow. "Well, now our clothes are all wet."

Once he was neck deep he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist, hers wound around his shoulders. "They'll dry," he said dismissively.

Snow rolled her eyes but a smile was tugging at her lips; she pressed her forehead against his.

James raised one hand to tunnel his fingers into her loose braid, slowly working them through the pleat. As his fingers met little-to-no resistance combing through her locks, Snow realized that he had removed the tie at the end and her hair was soon floating free around her shoulders in the water like seaweed. His hand returned to cup the side of her face, his thumb gently tilted her chin slightly; his mouth slid over hers, parting her lips with his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders with a whimper.

Snow's shirt had worked free of her waistband, James' hand slid over the skin of her back. _Gods, she was soft_, he mentally groaned; he was unable to stop his palm from continuing to skim across the bared flesh.

"James," Snow gasped, arching into the touch. _Oh, goddess, they needed to stop!_ the rational voice managed to whisper through the pleasureful haze clouding her mind. Her head fell helplessly back.

Taking advantage of the bared skin, his mouth trailed from the corner of her lips, over her chin and down her throat, tongue running over her pulse. Snow's legs instinctively came up to wrap around his hips, drawing a groan from them both at the intimate contact. James' hand ran from her cheek, down her shoulder to join the other at her waist, thumbs caressing along her ribcage. Snow clasped his face between her palms, bringing his head up from where he was nibbling on the hollow of her throat, and claimed his mouth with hers. The hungry kiss drew a pained groan from James' throat; his tongue and lips began dueling hers for control.

A wave washed over their heads.

They pulled apart, gasping. With one arm still wrapped around his shoulders Snow used her other hand to push back her hair that the water had swept over her face; her legs drifted from his waist. James kept his arms around her waist as he waded, until they reached where she could stand and he lowered her until her feet were firmly on the bottom. Their eyes met and after a few moments they burst into laughter, clinging to each other's hands as the slowly, stumblingly made their way back to shore.

Once they had reached dry land again, James tugged on her hand, bringing her to a stop beside him, he brought his hands up to cradle her face and kissed her softly. She leaned into him, sighing against his lips.

Eventually he lifted his head, brushing his nose against hers, but then red flooded his face and he turned his head to the side. "Uh, we should get a fire started."

She frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. "What is it?"

He cleared his throat stiffly, still not looking at her. "We, uh, we need to get your shirt dry."

Snow glanced down and instantly heat flooded her cheeks as well; she crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh." She had forgotten that she was wearing a white shirt and what happened when white cloth got wet. The nearly transparent material left little to the imagination, and James was trying _very_ hard to be a gentleman.

He cleared his throat again. "There's–there's a spare blanket back over by the picnic; you can wrap yourself in it while we dry your shirt."

"Right," she mumbled, red-faced.

They stood there for a few moments longer, the draw to finish what they had begun in the surf still so strong and humming through their veins. Finally they forced themselves apart, each going in opposite directions, Snow to the blanket and James to search for firewood.

Snow used the opportunity while he was searching the tree line to drape the blanket about her and awkwardly remove her shirt.

After gathering the necessary kindling, James returned to the blanket and began lighting the fire; slowly coaxing it to life. Once it was large enough he set up a few taller branches he had found near the flames and draped Snow's shirt across them; this done he removed his own and repeated the process. Finally he moved to sit down a respectable distance from her on the blanket.

Snow hated the stretch of empty space between them, wishing it an eternity in Hades.

For several moments all that was heard was the rush of the waves and cries of gulls.

"I'm sorry." James' voice came out a bit rough; he was staring down at his fingers which were mercilessly twisting a twig.

She frowned. "For what?"

His gaze turned to the sea. "I have put you in a highly compromising situation, and a gentleman should never do so to any woman, much less the woman he loves and is courting."

Snow suppressed a smile; still gripping the blanket closed about her she scooted closer to him. His head turned, surprise flaring in his eyes as she settled down next to him, leaning into his side, her head on his shoulder.

"I am in _no way_ offended, James," she assured him, staring into the flames. "We're not a conventional couple, and honestly, I prefer it that way." She turned her head, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I love you. And I want us to do things _our_ way, not society's, or our parents', or the traditional way. I want us to do things how _we_ want to, not how anyone else _tells_ us to."

One of James' hands moved to cover the one she was using to brace herself on the sand, his fingers sliding between hers. His head canted closer to hers, lips centimeters from her own. "That's a rather…dangerously tempting way of doing things," his voice rasped.

Snow let her nose rub against his. "Perhaps," she quietly acknowledged. "But it seems to work for us."

"True," he agreed, a half smile quirking his lips.

A satisfied grin lit her face as she tilted her head down and pressed a soft kiss to his bare shoulder and then laid her cheek on it, eyes still on his.

"So," James tangled their fingers together, "our way?"

Snow nodded. "Our way."

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head and murmured into her dark locks, "Whatever that means."

A quiet laugh bubbled from her. "Whatever that means."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow didn't think she'd ever seen Red's eyebrows climb so high on her forehead in her entire life as the younger woman took in the couple's disheveled state upon their returning to Henry's house.

"I thought you were going for a ride?"

Snow easily dismounted from Aravis. "We did."

One eyebrow still cocked, Red eyed them from head to toe. "You both look like you took a swim in the sea. And since when did swimming become part of horseback riding?"

The princess just grinned broadly while the prince coughed into his fist.

After clearing his throat once more, James turned his gaze to Snow. "I'll be back for dinner."

Snow moved over beside his horse, where he was still mounted. "All right, see you then."

James leaned precariously down and brushed a loving kiss across her lips. "See you later." Sitting back up, he turned and urged Cain into a trot, only looking away from Snow when he got close to the tree line and needed to pay attention to where he was going.

Snow continued to watch as he rode off, grin bright on her face.

Red eyed her princess, arms crossed. "Do I _want_ to know what you've been up to?"

The grin on Snow's face became even wider, and then she turned to her friend. "Nothing you need to know about," she told her in a sing-song voice, sashaying off with her horse to the stables.

The younger woman rolled her eyes before heading to the house.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

An hour later Snow stepped out of her room, brushing her still-damp hair over her shoulder; she'd bathed and changed into a fresh dress and was now heading to the kitchen to help with dinner.

"Snow."

She turned at Liam's call; he stuck his head in from the front door as she passed. "Liam." She moved over to him. "Did you need something?"

He braced a hand against the doorframe, glancing toward the kitchen, before returning his gaze to her. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Snow shrugged. "Of course." She allowed him to guide her outside by her arm. "What is it?"

He led her enough of a distance from the house so as they wouldn't be overheard. "I'm sure you've noticed that I'm interested in Red."

She grinned. "And she in you. You two are a little less than subtle about it," she told him amusedly.

The general chuckled. "I suppose." His expression became more serious. "She's keeping me at arms-length, though."

Snow frowned.

He compressed his lips. "And she told me this morning that I 'didn't want' her; she was quite adamant about that fact."

The princess' expression fell, realization dawning as she looked down at the ground.

Liam eyed her assessingly. "I have a friend who has said similar things."

Snow's eyes slowly rose to his.

"She was attacked by a man…" He allowed the statement to trail off, implication clear.

She shook her head. "No, Red has never been harmed by a man in that way. That's not why she's pushing you away." Empathy was clear in her expression.

"Then why?"

The princess bit her lip. "I can't tell you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

She rubbed her hands together anxiously. "Because it's not my secret to tell." She tangled her fingers together. "All I can tell you is it isn't because of a man hurting her, not even really about _her_ getting hurt at all."

Liam frowned. "Then what?"

Her expression became pained. "I told you, I can't say. It's up to Red to tell you."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, but nodded.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

Thomas blew out a breath, wishing he was wherever his brother was, especially since Snow had mentioned Ella was accompanying her to see James in a note she sent to him via bluebird. It being the night before the solstice his parents were holding a dinner party for the guests who had come to stay in the castle. Swirling his drink Thomas amended that he wished he was just about _anywhere_ else at the moment. Sultan had already pestered him _twice_ about him possibly courting Jasmine, and he'd seen Midas question his parents _politely_ about James' absence; they told the king that he was off handling some contrived situation. From the way Midas had been eying Thomas most of the night, the prince had the feeling that the king really wanted to question him about it as well, probably a little _less_ politely though.

'And here he comes,' Thomas thought sardonically as the king began to weave his way toward him. The prince took a bracing swallow of the wine in his hand. "King Midas," he bowed, "how good to see you."

The monarch's jaw was set, obviously annoyed, but he nodded his head in perfunctory acknowledgement. "Prince Thomas."

Deciding not to beat around the bush, Thomas asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes," Midas told him tightly, "I'm curious about your brother's whereabouts."

"My parents told you, Your Majesty," the prince politely replied, "James is handling a situation in a distant village."

Shrewd eyes narrowed. "Yes, they said that, but they were rather vague about what the 'situation' was or the location of this 'village.'"

"I believe he said he was going to Thornfield," Thomas stated; it was a tiny village in their kingdom and one of the most distant as well. Thomas wondered if King Midas would even be able to find the place if he tried.

"Hmm." There was a grim set to the king's mouth. "You know, your brother should really learn about fulfilling his responsibilities."

A scathing retort lurked on the tip of Thomas' tongue and while he desperately wanted to voice it, he clenched his jaw shut instead.

"Now, Your Majesty," a familiar drawl smoothly cut in. Philip came to stand beside Thomas, grinning at the king pleasantly. "There is one thing you should know about James, which _anyone_ who is acquainted with him knows. Responsibility basically _defines_ James. He doesn't know _how_ to be irresponsible." The dark-haired prince gave a wry grin. "That's _my_ job."

King Midas scowled disapprovingly at Philip before turning on heel and moving off to speak with another group of nobles.

Thomas slowly let out a controlled breath. "Thank you," he told his friend lowly.

"As if I would let that oaf insult James like that," the dark-haired prince sardonically countered. "Now," his expression lost its usual mocking edge and became entirely serious, the side of Prince Philip that only his friends saw, "where the hell is James and why is he going so against his own nature and disappearing?"

The fair-haired prince met his friend's eyes, seeing that he wasn't going to be put off. He sighed and tilted his head to the side to indicate that they'd go for a walk. "Come on, it's a bit of a story."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Lochdubh_

_The next day. The summer solstice…_

The preparation process for the solstice festival in Lochdubh was quite similar to Everland's in that it was a small village and everyone pitched in to help. Children ran about laughing and playing, free from chores for the day, while adults smiled upon them with pleased indulgence. Pinocchio was a bit nervous at first about playing with the other children, but after some encouragement from Geppetto and Jiminy he was soon running amuck with the other youngsters, looking the most like a young child that any of the adults had ever seen him be, the too-old look in his eyes gone for the moment.

The adults laughed and talked as they set up for the celebration. The load of all the work that had to be done to prepare for the large lunch and the bonfire that night, made light with the many hands pitching in. Any drudgery that may have existed in having to put forth so much effort vanished with the laughter, jokes and talk that flowed easily.

The townspeople never even blinked at having nobles working alongside them in the chores. Visitors to the town had not a clue that the hands serving them a dish belonged to a crowned princess or that the arms lugging their table and chairs were those of a future king. It was a secret that the locals kept, one outsiders weren't privy to. And one that had been shared with Jiminy and Pinocchio just the night before. Pinocchio had frowned and asked if he should bow to Snow and James, which they assured him that at least while they were in Lochdubh the answer was no; the child had then nodded, accepting the answer, and continued to eat his dinner as if such news were an everyday occurrence. Jiminy had been a bit more thrown and it had taken him several moments longer to recover, but after the other humans had explained that the royal pair preferred to be treated no different than anyone else he had agreed to continue to do so.

Throughout the morning and afternoon Jiminy stayed with Geppetto, enjoying talking with the man and truly getting to know the person he had once been so determined to help. The cricket wondered how he could tell Geppetto that the man had saved his soul; that in trying so hard to help the woodworker Jiminy had found himself.

The craftsman had been talking about Pinocchio a great deal, marveling over the way the child took to woodworking, fatherly pride shining through. When he had questioned Jiminy about the child's education the cricket had to admit it was sadly lacking, having taken a back seat to survival and them having no access to materials. Geppetto wasn't discouraged by this; he asked about Jiminy's own knowledge and his plans for the future. The man wasn't even attempting subtlety; making it obvious what his intentions were. Jiminy admitted that if Geppetto wished to adopt Pinocchio he himself had no idea as to any plans for his own life. This prompted the woodworker to ask if he would consider staying and helping with the child's education since Geppetto's own time would be limited in attending to it due to his work. Handed the chance to remain close to the two people who mattered most in his life, what other answer could Jiminy give but yes?

Finally Geppetto had anxiously inquired if Jiminy thought Pinocchio would accept if the woodworker asked to adopt him. The cricket, who had been privy to Pinocchio's whispered confessions of hopes and dreams, assured him that the child would most happily agree.

Pinocchio and a few of the other village boys scurried around behind the men who were building the main bonfire, which was going to be larger than usual since it was the largest celebration of the year, and the smaller secondary ones. The children were permitted by the men to carry smaller branches over to the growing piles. Between laughing with his new friends Pinocchio would jabber to James and Liam who were helping in the process, bringing wide smiles to the two men's faces.

Throughout the day James kept catching Liam's eyes straying to Red, almost more often than even the prince's own did to Snow.

"You know, this watching-from-afar routine is really out of character for you," James commented wryly as he sat down on a log next to his general, offering him a skin of water. "Normally you would go right up and talk to her."

Liam grimaced before taking a drink. "I did that."

The prince cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

His friend handed him the skin back. "She was pretty insistent that _I_ couldn't _possibly_ want _her_."

James frowned. "Did she say why?" he asked, raising the water to his lips.

Liam shook his head. "I asked Snow, but she said that she couldn't say; that it was up to Red to tell me. Though, she was adamant that Red hadn't been hurt like Belle."

"Have you asked her?" James poured some of the water over his head to cool down a bit more and handed it to his friend again.

The general accepted the skin. "She's been avoiding me."

"And?" The prince cocked an eyebrow. "When has something like that ever stopped you?"

Liam stared at his friend for a few moments before a smirk quirked his lips. "Never." He poured the rest of the water over his own head.

James clapped the other man on the back and the pair returned to work, grinning.

Meanwhile Snow, Ella and Red were shucking corn and Red was being grilled in low voices by the other two about Liam.

"It's unkind leaving him like that without any real reason for it," Snow gently but frankly admonished her friend.

"And what am I _supposed_ to tell him?" the other dark-haired woman hissed back. "The truth?" At the princess's responding look she scowled. "Be serious," Red snapped.

"I am," Snow stated flatly.

"What can the harm be?" Ella softly put in.

Red's eyes snapped to the blonde. "'What can the harm be?'" Her voice was sharp and nearly a sneer. "Perhaps I don't want to have _another_ person looking at me with fear, especially him!"

"We don't look at you with fear," her blond friend pointed out. Ella had taken the truth of Red's "inheritance" with surprising calm and acceptance.

"Yes, well Snow's _always_ known, and I have this belief that you have _no_ sense of self-preservation," Red countered testily.

Snow threw the ear she had just shucked into the pot at her feet with a little more force that necessary, her sharp gaze turning on her stubborn friend. "_You're_ the one who's been telling me for _years_ not to give up on love!"

"What?" Red sneered. "You think I should endanger a man with my 'problem' and possibly pass this…this…_curse_ on to a child?"

The intensity of the princess' sharp gaze turned up several notches. "And what if _he's_ willing to risk his own life?"

Red felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach.

"What if he loves you _that_ much?" Snow continued ruthlessly.

The younger dark-haired woman looked away to stare in the direction of the sea.

They were all silent for several moments.

"Are you really willing to give up the possibility of such a love and the happiness it could bring you?" Ella quietly inquired.

Red's eyes slid shut as tears began burning behind them.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sun was setting and the fires had been lit. Food sprawled across tabletops, taps flowed freely and instruments were tuned up. It was already looking to be a great party and the night hadn't even begun.

After the long day out in the hot sun, James and Liam had gone back to Geppetto's to wash up and change before coming to the party; according to Jiminy, Snow, Red and Ella had returned to their own abode to do the same. The prince had gone most of the day and only spent about two hours with his beloved so far. He was aching to have her with him, and he _definitely_ wanted the chance to dance with her in his arms. His eyes scanned the crowd almost continuously, watching for the princess and her two friends.

"Looking for me, Charming?"

A grin spread across James' face before he turned. And the air was abruptly sucked out of his lungs.

Snow was wearing a style of dress popular around Lochdubh–the bohemian attitudes and lifestyle of the town definitely bled into their clothing–this particular type of dress was called a "wrap-around." It literally did as the name implied; to put it on one wrapped it around their body, slipping their arms through the sleeves, and a tie would be knotted at the hip, keeping it closed. But the truly tantalizing thing about the dress wasn't that it clung to every dip and curve of her body, it was the knowledge that all it would take to remove it was simply untying that one flimsy knot.

_Gods preserve him!_

A coy smile lit her face as she made her way toward him with a slow, graceful stride, hips swaying provocatively.

_Oh, goddess._

Desire slammed him in the gut, pooling there. Gods, he wanted her.

The thin white material billowed around her legs as she came to a stop in front of him; she lifted the glass from his near-slack grip and, keeping her eyes locked on his, sipped his drink.

"Not quite Happy's brew," Snow commented, humor threading her voice as she handed the glass back to him.

James took the drink back, unable to look away from the seductive siren before him.

She loosely wove her fingers together behind her back, swaying slightly from side to side, her smile still flirtatious. "Are you planning on dancing with me tonight, Charming?"

He reached out with his free hand, allowing it to skate from her upper arm, bared by the short sleeves of the dress, down her back, curving around her waist; drawing her against him. "Oh, yes," he said huskily, bending his head close to hers, noting the stargazer lily that had been pinned into the back of her hair with a half-grin.

Snow grinned, rubbing her nose against his. "Good," she whispered back. She then rose on her toes and quickly pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, before lowering to her soles again, grinning at him brightly. "Now, you can get me a drink."

With a laugh, he backed up slightly but kept a hand against the small of her back as he guided her over to the taps.

After she was drawn a pint they moved over to a half-empty table, going to the unoccupied end. James gave her a hand down onto the bench, where she curled her bare feet under her. He then settled himself next to her, hardly a breath of space between them.

James took one of her hands and wove his fingers with hers; bringing them up to study the knotted digits. "You know," he told her thoughtfully, running one of his thumbs along her knuckles, "now that we have decided that we're going to get married, something we haven't talked about yet that's a _little_ important, is how we're going to handle both of us being heirs to kingdoms." He gave her a wry grin.

A half sigh half self-deprecating laugh escaped her lips. "I guess that's something we're going to have to think about, isn't it?"

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Just maybe."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder with a sigh. "I've spent my life preparing to take over ruling _one_ kingdom."

His arm wrapped around her shoulders. "As have I. So how are we going to deal with _two_?"

After a thoughtful silence Snow tilted her head up to look at him. "What do you want to do?"

James pressed his lips to her forehead. "Honestly, if I could have it my way we would run off and just live as common folk somewhere quiet and secluded, far from the drama and political machinations of Court."

"Hmm." A smile spread across her lips. "Sounds nice, quiet and sane."

"And totally unattainable for us," he murmured wryly into her hair.

A soft laugh whispered from her. "Indeed."

His fingers gently drew a line up and down her arm. "Rule together and then allow whichever of our children best suit the thrones to inherit?"

Snow tipped her head back, eyes meeting his. "Child_ren_? Are you planning on more than one, Charming?"

He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "As long as that's all right with you, most definitely."

She grinned at him brightly, settling her head back into the crook of his shoulder. "Sounds like a plan."

James continued to let his hand drift up and down her bare arm. "You want multiple children?"

"Mm hmm," Snow nodded against his shoulder. "Being an only child can get lonely."

"When we met again in Everland, you said that you spent enough time with the other children in the village that it didn't."

She looked up at him. "Do you remember _everything_ I've said?" she gently teased.

He grinned back. "Well…not _everything_ perhaps…"

She stifled a laugh; tilting her head back into place. "The other children along with Red, Aurora, Gaspard and Eric helped make it _less_ lonely, but honestly…I always wished that I had a sister or brother." A quiet smile curled her lips. "I've always wanted more than one child."

"Well, it's good to know that's something we agree on," James told her.

"Hmm," she softly affirmed.

They sat in companionable silence for several moments watching their fellow revelers, the band had struck up a tune and dancers whirled around.

Across the nearest fire they observed Red doing her level best to duck Liam, while the general determinedly dogged her.

"Do you think those two will work it out?" James quietly questioned.

Snow lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "If Red will stop being stubborn and explain, then perhaps."

Their dark-haired friend darted over to them.

"Here we go," the prince muttered just before Red reached them.

"Snow, they're going to be playing Flacon de Neige next." She reached out a hand to the princess. "We'd better find partners if we want to dance it."

James tightened his arms around the woman wrapped in them. "She already has a partner."

Both women turned surprised gazes on him.

Red's expression became amused and she propped a hand on her hip, a smirk pulling at her lips. "I thought you didn't know how to dance the Flacon de Neige."

"Three months ago I didn't."

"And you do now?"

His fingers danced over Snow's arms, tilting his head down to gaze at her. "Let's just say that I was quite motivated to learn."

His princess grinned up at him before turning to her friend. "Looks like I already am spoken for."

Red rolled her eyes as she turned away, saying, "Of course you are."

Snow laced her fingers with his, biting her lip. "You know we don't have to dance it if you don't want to."

James dipped his head down to steal a kiss. "But I _do_ want to." He brushed his nose against hers, before slowly releasing his hold on her, though retaining one of her hands and stood up, helping her to her feet as well. "We had best get out there."

Her grin was radiant as she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

After leaving Everland, one of the first things that James had done was seek out someone to teach him to dance the Flacon de Neige. It had taken some doing but he'd eventually found a young couple working in the castle who had family in Everland and knew it. He had learned that the dance was entirely as complicated to perform as it had looked. Not only was it a complicated set to memorize but there were two "versions" of it.

One version was chaste enough that any pair could dance it, but the second version was a much more intimate one. The partners moved much closer, touches went beyond what was ordinarily allowed between a couple without an understanding; this version was meant to only be performed by engaged and married couples, though some allowance was usually made for ones who had a strong understanding.

The couples were set in two circles, the women inside the men's; both groups started the dance facing inward, men facing the women and the women with their backs to the men. With the start of the music the man would step forward and reach to brush a lock of hair over the woman's shoulder, or at least pretend to if her hair was pulled up. The woman would tilt her head in his direction; at the cue of the song she would turn around entirely to face him bringing her hand up, as if to hold the man off, and this is where the two versions began to differ. The woman was the one who proposed the level of intimacy for the dance in this moment; if she rested her hand against his chest then she was indicating that she wished to perform the more intimate version; otherwise her hand would remain suspended between them for a moment indicating the other. From there the dance became a carefully controlled whirl of bodies; earning its name from the dancers looking like snowflakes interweaving.

James and Snow took their positions and the music began flowing. James' fingers ran over her dark curls lingeringly; he could see her pressing her lips together to suppress a smile as her head canted in his direction. When it came time for her to spin to face him her expression was properly controlled, and her hand landed on his chest firmly, unmistakably. His pulse skittered at the contact and the intent look in her eyes. Technically speaking they should not be dancing this version, they might have a private understanding, but for their own reputations' sakes they should have an official one before dancing this. However, Lochdubh was a great deal more forgiving of such lapses in etiquette and people were all-too-happy to turn a blind eye to certain things. And James couldn't have denied himself the chance to hold her even closer in his arms for the world.

Throughout the dance Snow made her movements as teasing as possible, pushing his self-control to its limits. In his frustration he found himself "pushing" back, taunting her, holding her closer and a heartbeat longer than necessary.

When the music finally drew to a close and they had bowed and curtseyed respectively, their eyes locked. For several moments they were unable to move, hearts racing, desire heating their blood.

Red and Ella grabbed Snow and dragged her off to perform another dance that was just for the women. James stared after them, unable to look away from the dark-haired beauty even as he moved to the taps for another drink.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Red was laughing with Snow, Ella and a few other women when a strong, calloused hand closed firmly over her arm. She whirled around, but she didn't need to look to know who would be standing there, the shocks cascading down her spine and stirring her blood told her quite clearly enough.

Liam smiled at her pleasantly, thinly-veiling annoyance. "I believe I'll claim the next dance with you."

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" He kept his voice light.

"It's a bad idea." The strain of forcing herself to hold him at a distance threaded her voice.

"It's just a dance, Red," he told her lowly.

Oh, how she wanted to agree, but she _really_ shouldn't. Red turned to her two friends who seemed to be _quite_ absorbed in a conversation about a dress Snow was hoping Ella could help her make.

No aid on that front.

She turned back to the man before her. _What could one dance hurt?_ a traitorous voice questioned. She was so tired of fighting it. Why couldn't she give in and allow herself this one moment to hold to her heart in the long, cold, lonely years to come?

"All right," she finally acquiesced in a soft voice.

Dancing with Liam was the most wonderful experience she'd ever had, but also the most heartrending, being in his arms and knowing that she couldn't stay in them. Why had she thought this would be a good idea? His touch was steady and sure, and his eyes…_oh_, could she have ever even _dreamed_ of a man looking at her like that? It tore through the walls around her heart and made her want to weep.

The song finally ended and she began to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her wrist. "How about another dance?"

Red squeezed her eyes shut. "Why?" she pleaded.

"Why what?"

She turned a tortured gaze to him. "Why are you doing this?"

He met her eyes honestly. "Because I want to show you that I _do_ want you."

"No you don't!" There was a hysterical edge to her voice.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "How do you know that if you won't tell me the reason you think I won't?"

"Because no man ever _has_." She was blinking furiously. "Most people can't handle finding out, and I don't want you to look at me like they do!"

He frowned, uncomprehendingly.

"Please, Liam," she begged. "Let me go."

For several heartbeats he did nothing but stare searchingly into her eyes and then, rather than releasing her, he pulled her closer so that there was hardly any space between them and bent his head close to hers. "No, Red," he stated firmly. "I'm not going to let you go. I'm not going to force you to tell me, but I'm not going to leave you either."

Her wide eyes gazed up into his.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Red?" Liam asked.

She swallowed thickly at the intent look he was giving her.

"No matter what happens," he continued, "I'm always going to be here, whenever you're ready."

Her heart was racing.

He slowly loosened his grip on her arm, allowing it to slip from his grasp. They remained frozen there for a few moments–a lifetime–before Liam, keeping his eyes ever on her, bowed and slowly made his way to where James was standing.

Red continued to stare after him, knowing that a piece of her heart had just walked off.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella was sitting next to Geppetto near the band, listening to the music, not hearing a note, and allowing her eyes to wander over the party sightlessly.

"Are things nicer where you are?"

She jolted at the genial tone beside her, turning to face the kindly woodworker. "Sorry?"

Geppetto chuckled, wrapping his arm more securely around Pinocchio who was slumped against his side, long since asleep. "You were many miles away."

Ella had the good grace to blush. "I'm so sorry; I'm being horrible company."

The apology easily was waved off. "Nothing to apologize for." His gaze became inquiring. "What were you thinking about?" When her blush deepened a bit of realization dawned on him. "Or should I say _who_?"

She ran a finger around the rim of her cup. "I'm just missing…Thomas." She glanced at him confidingly.

"Ah," the man nodded with understanding. "Principe had mentioned that you and his brother had taken an interest in each other."

Ella smiled down at her cup. "I – well…I suppose…I mean nothing has precisely been _said_... But…I've never felt like this about any man before."

A soft chuckle slipped from Geppetto's lips, Pinocchio briefly stirred but immediately settled once more. "According to Principe James his brother is…how did he put it? That he is a 'gone man?' That Principe Thomas is 'head-over-heels' for you."

Her teeth bit her lip, the words causing her heart to skip in her chest. "Did James really say that?"

"I am not one to tell tales, Ella."

Her hands tightened around her glass and she lifted her eyes to the crescent moon. "I miss him so much. I just want to see him again, more than anything."

Geppetto reached over with his free hand and patted one of hers. "And I have no doubt that you will, the moment that he hears you have returned home I'm sure Principe Thomas will come to visit as soon as he is able."

Ella gave him a hopeful smile before turning her gaze once more to the glittering sky.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James found himself separated from Snow for over an hour with barely enough time to ask her how she was enjoying herself the one moment he was near enough to her, before she was whisked off again. They continued to catch each other's eyes though, she sent him teasing looks that kept the desire in his gut from dissipating in the slightest. Oh, was it ever frustrating…

Eventually she disappeared around a group; his eyes began seeking her out earnestly, but for several minutes he couldn't find her. Worry began to creep in–Lochdubh wasn't _that_ big of a town–his gaze searching relentlessly. Then he caught sight of her coming from nearly the opposite direction of where she had been. Apparently she'd managed to slip her friends and was sauntering toward him; there was a small bowl in her hand and she was licking its contents off of her fingers.

_Oh, gods…_

"Charming," she greeted him, eyes sparkling impishly.

"Princess," he managed in a near-normal tone, gaze intent on her.

She bit her lip stepping a bit closer. "Have you ever had _Lacrimae Lunaris_ honey?" She dipped a fingertip into the bowl, which he now took to contain the aforementioned honey, and then delicately lifted it to her lips, drawing it off.

He had realized early on in the evening that she was trying to seduce him, and honestly, even with all of the reasons why they _shouldn't_, he hadn't been able to bring himself to ask her to stop, and he certainly couldn't _now_.

He swallowed hard. "No, I don't believe I have."

She held the bowl up to him. "Would you like to try some?"

She had dipped two fingers into the bowl again and was about to bring them to her lips. James was more than ready to turn the tables by now. He quickly reached out and cinched her wrist in his hand, surprise flared in her eyes. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he bent his head and drew her fingers into his mouth.

She visibly sucked in a breath, a flush spreading over her skin. The fluttering beneath his fingers was fast as a hummingbird's wing.

His tongue curled around the digits before slowly releasing them.

Snow's eyes were dilated; her lips parted helplessly.

They stared at each other, immobile for several heartbeats, Snow trying to gather at least a few of her wits and James waiting to see what she would do.

With one deep breath she closed the last of the space between them, furling her free hand in the front of his shirt and pushing herself up on her toes to press her lips to his. The kiss was searing, but it wasn't unbridled passion, no it was something far more dangerous. Love, desire, and a silent plea for more; appealing to him on all levels.

Slowly she lowered herself once again to her soles, eyes gazing up at him.

James swallowed thickly. "Snow…" he rasped.

She caught her lip between her teeth anxiously before taking a deep breath. "I'm tired…walk me home?"

After a heartbeat of hesitation James reached out, taking the bowl from her and set it down on a nearby table. He then placed a hand at the small of her back and began guiding her away from the party, down the path that led to Henry's house.

The walk was silent; fraught with desire so thick they could hardly draw breath.

James' hand at her back was scalding and Snow felt like her heart was going to pound right out of her chest.

For them the journey to the house was an eternity enclosed heartbeat.

At the threshold they turned to face each other. Snow was trembling with aching desire and pulse-pounding nerves.

James stepped forward, allowing his fingers to ghost up and down her arms. "Snow, if you're not ready for this…" His gaze intent on hers, he swallowed visibly, fingers naturally twining with hers. "I can just kiss you goodnight and leave."

She allowed his willingness to accept her decision, regardless of what it was, to sink in. "Is that what you want?"

"Snow," he breathed. A rueful chuckle slipped from his lips as he lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. "There are thousands of reasons why we shouldn't even be _thinking_ about doing this…but gods help me," his hand rose to settle around her throat, thumb caressing over her pulse, "I can't bring myself to care about them. I want you."

The stark words sent a spike of heat racing through her blood. Heart pounding, Snow slowly rose on her toes bringing their lips millimeters apart; James didn't move an inch. After the briefest of pauses she closed the last bit of distance between their lips.

After a moment their lips parted; their eyes were instantly locked. Snow reached behind her for the handle of the door, twisting it open, she backed into the house, pulling James with her. He nudged the door shut with his heel, before following her down the hall to her room. At her door he swept her up in his arms, eliciting a surprised gasp from her; but she was instantly melting into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders. She pressed her lips to his throat, allowing them to explore the texture of the skin there.

James kicked the door closed behind him; he made his way over to the bed and gently set his beloved down on it. Snow sat up watching as he sat down on the edge near her; he reached down, pulling off his boots, his movements unhurried. There was no rush between them, they had the night and both wanted this to last.

Once he was done he turned back to her and crawled toward her. Snow lay back, letting him come to rest above her, bracing his weight on his elbows. Her fingers rose to trace each of his features, his eyes slid closed at the light caress, when the digits brushed his lips he allowed himself to press a kiss to them, but to remain otherwise passive until she went further. Eventually the tips of her fingers came to rest over the scar on his chin. At her stillness his eyes slowly opened to meet her gaze. Her eyes flicked back and forth between his; she then lifted her head, her hand sliding to cup his jaw, coaxing his head down to hers, which he obliged.

James let his tongue glide past her lips, savoring the taste of her. Snow nipped at his bottom lip earning her an approving moan. He pulled back a bit, shifting his weight to one arm. He watched his now free hand slowly skim up her arm and over her shoulder. Snow's heart began to beat double-time as his fingers traced the lace-edged neckline of her dress; her pulse went skittering as his hand passed between her breasts. He continued following the line until he reached the tie at her waist; his eyes lifted to hers, asking permission.

Snow swallowed and nodded.

Fingers slowly pulled at the bow the strings were tied in; her heart raced as she felt the dress loosen around her. Rather than just unwrapping the garment from there his hand went back to her shoulder where he began to push the dress down her arm, his lips following it. Snow's head fell back as his mouth trailed down her chest following the swell of her breast until he reached the top of the breast band she wore. His hands slipped between her dress and back feeling for the knot that held the band in place; she wrapped an arm around his shoulders helping arch herself up so that he could more easily get to it.

James had long since realized that Snow wasn't a woman who favored corsets; in fact the only time he'd seen her wear one was for the Spring Ball in Everland, and he was _very_ grateful she wasn't wearing one now. Trying to get her out of that contraption would have been hell.

The band finally came loose and he brushed it aside. Snow was trembling under him as his mouth continued to move down her breast, her fingers now fisted in his shirt. When he reached her nipple he paused, worried that he was pushing her too far too fast.

"James?"

He glanced up to find her gazing at him questioningly with hazy eyes, not seeing any fear, only a touch of nervousness blended in with the obvious desire. With this reassurance he lowered his head again and closed his mouth over her breast.

Snow gasped, arching into him. _Oh, goddess!_ Her thoughts scattered to the wind under the pleasureful assault. When he finally lifted his head she clasped his face between her hands and pulled him toward her; he obliged easily, coupling his mouth to hers.

Quite suddenly Snow wanted to feel his skin against hers, _now_. She began tugging at his wine-colored tunic, the drags of her fingers pulling it from the waistband of his breeches and drawing it up his torso. James allowed his lips to leave hers only long enough to pull the shirt off; then he returned to her mouth, tossing the clothing thoughtlessly aside. _Gods, her skin was silken against his._

Tired of working around her arms still being trapped by the sleeves of her dress, Snow began to wriggle her limbs free of the fabric, having more success once James lent his own hands to help. With her arms now entirely at liberty she wrapped them around his torso, letting her hands dance over the muscles, sensitive fingers absorbing the texture and small variances from the scars she had glimpsed when he'd worked shirtless. They were small generally, non-lethal, though there was one long, thin one across his right shoulder blade that looked as though he had been on the wrong end of a scimitar. She'd definitely need to ask him about that someday.

James' hands mapped out every curve and rise of her body, he pulled his lips from hers to draw them over her collarbones; his teeth nipped at the hollow between them. Her hands gripped his corded shoulders, neck arching in response. He accepted the silent invitation and leisurely made his way up her throat to the spot behind her ear where he began working the skin with his teeth, lips and tongue.

Snow shifted restlessly beneath him. "James," she moaned. Her movements brought him between her legs, the new position and contact had them both reeling.

She arched into him instinctively, which caused him to tear his mouth from her neck with a groan. "Snow."

Her fingers fumbled with the fastenings on his breeches, hands eagerly pushing them off of him, his own helping until he could kick them aside. He then came to rest against her again, both of them gasping at the sensation of nothing between them; their eyes met for a quelling moment, searching.

It killed him to say it, but James managed to rasp, "It's not too late to stop."

Keeping her eyes locked with his, Snow drew her leg up along his before curling it around his waist, drawing him that much closer, and answering him loud and clear.

His hand spanned her throat, tilting her jaw with his thumb so he could slant his mouth over hers. Hands wandered and cupped, exploring and learning – or what felt more like _re-_learning to them if they were honest with themselves, they knew too well what would make the other moan and writhe with pleasure. However, neither was really of a mind to notice this fact at the moment.

James lowered his mouth to her other breast, taking the nipple into his mouth and drawing strongly on it. Snow cried out arching into him, hands fisting at his short hair, trying to hold him closer. Her writhing movements brought his erection in line with her core; the contact roused them both, her eyes snapping open and his head lifting to look at her. Their eyes were locked, both panting.

One of his hands slid down to rest on her lower abdomen, thumb feathering back and forth over the skin. "It's going to hurt, Snow."

The worry and care in his expression warmed her heart; she nodded. "I know." She shifted against him, her movements encouraging him to continue.

With himself positioned against her entrance he leaned his head down to kiss her, murmuring against her lips, "I love you." He thrust inside her.

Snow tore her lips from his with a cry; trying to muffle it against his shoulder, nails digging crescent-shaped wounds into his back.

James' arms tightened convulsively around her, burying his face in her hair.

Tears trickled out of the corners of Snow's eyes; he began kissing her face, words slipping from his lips heedlessly.

Her eyes were screwed shut, unsure of how to respond to this intrusion into her body and the pain. Then other things began to register, James' lips pressing to every inch of her face worshipfully, murmured words of apology and love, the dampness of his own cheeks and the tremors that were shaking his frame at not only the effort of remaining still against his baser urges, but with the pain of, at least in his eyes, having hurt her. She didn't want him to blame himself in any way; she didn't want him suffering for something she wanted just as much as he did. She cupped his face between her palms; this caught his attention and he let her draw his face to hers. Mouths once more mated to each other, her tongue slid against his, inviting his own response. Her nails gently grazed up and down his chest before her hands wound around to splay across his back; the pain had been receding and Snow began to move restlessly against him. James couldn't stop his hips from rocking against her at the teasing of her movements.

Once again Snow pulled her mouth from his, but this time it was to gasp as pleasure rippled through her.

His head bowed into her neck with a pained groan, his hips jerking against hers again. "Snow."

Rather than give him a verbal response she wrapped her arms around his shoulders again and arched her hips into his. "James," she breathed into his ear.

He lifted his head gazing down at her with hooded eyes, taking in the passion glazing hers; that was all he needed to see to take possession of her mouth. He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward again slowly. Snow shuddered against him, her hips not quite synchronized to his, but insistent and eager. It didn't take all that long before they matched each other's rhythm, the tempo picking up.

One of James' hands skimmed down her side, to thigh, to knee, where he firmed his grip and drew it up encouraging her to wrap it around his hip; she obliged, her other leg moving to do the same. He dragged both of his hands from her waist up her torso and then ran them up her arms; she unwound them from around his shoulders, as he guided them to stretch above her head. He laced their fingers together there, holding tight. His lips drifted feverishly from hers down her throat, enjoying the way she arched into his ministrations. They were both so close to the edge, could feel it taunting them. His mouth moved to her breast again and as his mouth played over the skin, she shattered in his arms, taking him over the edge with her, drawing a hoarse cry.

They lay panting in one another's embrace, hearts pounding against each other.

After a handful of heartbeats James roused himself enough to roll over, bringing her with him; she sprawled across his chest. They continued to breathe heavily in each other's arms, waiting for their hearts to return to a semi-normal pace. Once they could manage it they tugged the covers loose on the bed and slipped under them. Snow snuggled into his side, arm wrapping around his waist and head settled on his chest, ear pressed to his heart. James' arms wrapped around her like iron bands, as if afraid someone would come and try to steal her from him.

"I love you, James," she whispered against his heart. "For all eternity."

His heart raced at the familiar promise that a couple usually only made upon their marriage vows, but between them, before she even had an engagement ring on her finger, if felt right.

"I love you too, for all eternity," he vowed in return.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Fate's nimble fingers began to slowly twist two strands together. Her child looked on with wonder and the dawning understanding that these were never two strands but one that was being re-wound as promises were remade. Ties unbroken._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

And there you have it! :-D So, how did I do? I was REALLY nervous writing this, but I'm fairly satisfied, particularly this is my first time writing such a scene. I'll likely be writing one again for this story, I think. How did you guys like Red and Liam and my bringing in her "wolfy" problem? (You will be seeing more of them in the next chapter!) Those of you asking for more Ella and Thomas, I promise it is coming! Philip, I've been sooooo…wanting to write more for him ever since he FINALLY explained to me why he is the way he is and I'm REALLY looking forward to telling his and Aurora's story! :-D I hope that you guys liked it! Thank you so much for reading!


	14. Chapter 12: Life

Hello wonderful readers! :-D I'm sorry this took a while, but I hope that you all like it! Thank you sooooooo much for all of the encouragement in review, PMs, tweets and now on tumblr as well, along with the faves and alerts! :-D Yes, I just mentioned tumblr, I am on there; I have two blogs a general one and another that is dedicated to my OUAT fanfics, the links are in my profile if you want to check them out! :-) I'm so glad that you guys liked how I did with the M rated chapter! It was very encouraging to know that I did well! So enough of my rambling, on to what you guys are here for!

To **Sassy18**, I've said it before and I'll keep saying it, thank you sooooo much, dearie! ;-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 12: Life**

_Snow was lying on her back in the grass, the leafy blades softly brushing her arms and cheeks; the warm summer sun shone down brightly on her, warming her closed eyelids. She was enjoying a rare carefree day spent away from the burdens of ruling a kingdom, and pushing aside, if only for a little while, her worries about her stepmother's threat. A smile curled her lips as a wide palm stroked over her slightly rounded stomach, fingers splayed. James loved laying his hand on her belly, taking every chance to connect to the child she carried in any way he could and to feel their baby move. There was a flutter beneath his hand, drawing laughs from both of them._

_Snow covered his hand with hers. "She knows her daddy." She turned her head, opening her eyes to look at her Prince Charming, lying on his side beside her._

"_She?" A blond eyebrow cocked as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her stomach._

"_Mm hmm." Her fingers tunneled through his hair. "We're having a girl."_

_He laid his ear on her belly, grinning at her. "I don't think so. I think it's a boy."_

"_Nope," humor threaded her tone, "a daughter. A little girl."_

"_How are you so sure?" he teased, shifting around so that his body was settled over hers, hands bracketing her waist; he bent his head again to brush his lips over the bump._

_Snow grinned. "I just know." Curiosity chased across her face. "Why do you think we're going to have a boy?"_

_Her husband shrugged, thumbs caressing the sides of her abdomen. "Sons tend to run in my family."_

_She cupped his face between her hands, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks lovingly. "Would you be disappointed if we had a girl?"_

_James' eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Of course not!" He reached up a hand to cover one of hers. "I would love to have a daughter." A warm grin spread across his face. "A little girl who looks just like you, with your spirit."_

"_And your heart." Snow added with a matching grin. Her thumb traced over the scar on his chin. "I love you."_

_He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I love you too."_

"Oh my gods!"

James shot up in bed, rudely yanked from the dream by the shriek, reaching for his sword…which wasn't there. He glanced around at the unfamiliar room, gradually remembering where he was.

"Red!" Snow's sharp shout beside him drew his attention to her.

She apparently had risen in bed with him and was clutching the blankets to her chest. His other arm had instinctively shot out to stretch across in front of her in a protective gesture; her own free hand was curled around his upper arm.

Gaping and horrified in the doorway was indeed Red. "_Oh my gods!_" she screamed again.

James used his right hand to make sure that the blankets pooling in his lap kept him covered, while lowering his other arm and resting that hand reassuringly on Snow's blanket-covered thigh.

"Red, what is it?" Ella dashed into sight; the moment she looked in the room her eyes went wide. "Oh goddess!" She spun around so that her back was to the couple, hand clapped over her mouth.

Snow raised the blanket a little more to cover her chest better, scowling deeply. "Haven't you heard of knocking?"

"You slept with him!" Red screeched back incredulously.

The princess glared at her. "Since _I'm_ the one in bed with James, I'm pretty sure I'm fairly well aware of that fact."

Something that sounded suspiciously like a strangled laugh escaped Ella.

"Oh my gods, Snow, have you lost your mind?"

"No, but I think I might be close to losing my hearing," she snapped. "Why the hell are you in my room in the first place?"

Red opened her mouth to give what was likely to be a sharp retort, but Ella spoke first, still keeping her back mostly to them and only chancing tiny glances over her shoulder. "We were worried about you when we couldn't find you at the party; Geppetto said that he saw you leave earlier."

"Thank you, but as you can see I'm fine," the princess informed them tightly.

"_Fine_?" James thought that Red's voice might have risen even further in pitch, if that was possible. "You _slept_ with him!" She leveled an accusing finger at the prince, still shouting at her friend. "How is that anywhere in the realm of '_fine_'? Gods, Snow, are you _insane_?"

Snow, obviously having had enough by this point, leaned over the side of the bed, snatched up one of James' boots and reared her arm back to hurl it at her friend. "Get out!"

Ella, apparently being able to see just enough, perceived the danger; reached in, grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut just in time for the boot to thwack harmlessly against the wood surface.

"Sorry!" the couple could hear her muffled shout through the door.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Sorry?" Red squawked, eyeing the blonde incredulously. "_Sorry_? _They're_ the ones who should be sorry!"

"Red, it _is_ her life," Ella sighed patiently.

The dark-haired woman pointed at the door, shaking with outrage. "They are each heirs to kingdoms! Have they even considered the ramifications of this?"

The blonde took a slow deep breath. "Well, there isn't really anything that anyone can do about it now. What's done is done and certainly can't be _un_done. And it is _far_ too late at night to be trying to deal with it now." She firmly grasped Red's arm and began to pull her away down the hall. "So, we might as well just leave them be and get some rest ourselves."

"But–"

"No, buts," Ella quickly countered.

Red scowled. "You know, I think I might have actually liked you better when you were timid."

Her blond friend just grinned at her.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had shifted to sit upright, his hands rubbing up and down Snow's arms and pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade, murmuring soothingly to her as he pulled her back against his chest. She was angry, upset and hurt, and was resisting slightly, but slowly she allowed him to draw her into his arms.

They could hear Red's angry raised voice and Ella's calmer, more measured tones fade down the hall.

He'd wrapped one arm across her shoulders and the other around her waist; Snow's hands rose and knotted her fingers with his, clinging desperately to him.

"I don't care what she said," she bent her head and peppered kisses along the arm he had across her breastbone, "I love you. I don't regret this."

"I love you too," he whispered. His lips pressed to her bare shoulders and neck. "I don't have any regrets. However, she has a point about ramifications." The hand around her waist slid to span her abdomen, resting over her womb. "You could be pregnant." The dream was still fresh in his mind and made him ache all the more with longing at the idea that even now she could be carrying his child, even though it would be the absolute _worst_ timing for it.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of having a baby with James, remembering how happy they both were about it in her dream; her hand rested atop his. "I know." Her fingers tightened over his. "I want that with you, _so_ much."

"As do I," he told her huskily.

Snow turned sideways in his arms; he cradled her against his chest. His hands caressed over her arms and back, his lips brushing her hair. "I wish I could marry you tomorrow."

Her hands curled around the arm wrapped around her waist, eyes sliding shut with longing. "I would like nothing better," she agreed softly. Her face turned into his shoulder. "Can we do that, just get married, you and I, no one else, and go find that little farm to live on?"

James' arms tightened around her. "I would love that. But we can't."

"No," she sighed. "We can't."

They sat like that for a moment longer before settling back down under the covers, arms and legs tangled. Snow's fingers drew soft lines across his chest; James' hands wound through her curls.

"I had a dream," she began quietly, "we were together," her eyes were on her caressing left hand, remembering the weight of the rings that had rested there, "married."

"You were pregnant." His voice was a touch hoarse.

Her eyes lifted to his. "Yes."

His hand slid from her back to cup her cheek, fingers tunneling into her hair. "You were insisting it was a girl."

"And you thought it was a boy."

They continued to stare into each other's eyes for long moments.

"I was right," she told him softly, the dream hadn't shown that part but somehow she knew it, bone-deep. "It was a girl."

His thumb traced patterns against her temple. "I know." And he did. They were going to have a daughter in the dream, even part of his dream-self had known it, but apparently the pattern of his family having sons was so set in his mind that he couldn't help doubting what his heart knew. "A little girl with your spirit."

"And your heart." Her hand splayed over his chest, feeling said organ thrum strongly beneath her palm.

The thought, the hope was so strong they both could feel it. The infant's first cry, the slight weight of her body in their arms, the utter elation at the birth and abiding true love for their daughter.

A tear slid down Snow's cheek; she swiped it away. "I'm crying," she mumbled, forcing a short laugh. "Crying over a _dream_."

James tightened his arms around her, swallowing thickly. "I think in this case it's completely understandable. It felt so _real_." He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "I feel like I lost something in waking up."

"Me too," she quietly admitted, ghosting one hand down to her stomach; it somehow felt strange to find it flat, fingers expecting to encounter a bump. She raised the palm to press against her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. "It's very disorienting and confusing."

He cupped her cheek in one hand, tilting her face up; she opened her eyes to meet his. "We'll figure it all out," he promised.

A smile slipped onto her face; she pushed herself up to couple her lips with his. He curled his hand around the back of her neck, guiding their foreheads to rest against each other after they pulled back from the kiss.

Snow's eyes were shut, her face serene, arms wound around his neck. "Hmm."

James smiled at the contented sound that escaped her.

"Is it strange that we aren't even questioning the fact that we had the exact same dream?"

James skated his wide palms up and down her bare back, considering his words and her possible reaction before deciding to go ahead and say it. "I know you don't believe in it, but you're my true love; I've stopped questioning such things happening between us."

She was silent for a moment.

"I lied," she whispered.

His eyes snapped open; he cupped her face between his palms, urging her to lean back enough so that their eyes could meet. "What?"

Her eyes cast downward. "I have always believed in true love…but…when you think that you'll never have it…" She took a deep breath. "It hurts less to try not to believe in true love when you think that you'll never find it." She met his gaze once more. "Meeting you destroyed any hope I had of maintaining that illusion." Fingers slid from his neck to settle on the scar on his chin. "You are my true love. I can't imagine my life with anyone else. I don't _want_ my life to be with anyone else. Only _you_."

In one motion James sealed his mouth to hers and rolled her under him, drawing a startled gasp from her; her fingernails dug into his shoulders for purchase. His palms dragged over her shoulders and down her back, provoking her to arch into him. Snow sucked on his lower lip, tongue tracing the bow of it; he groaned, arms pulling her tighter against him. His knee parted her thighs and he settled between them; she moaned into his mouth, her legs coming up to cradle his hips.

As they made love an unconscious thought flitted through James' mind, not registering in the heat of passion. _Snow, my love…my wife…_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James wasn't sure how he managed to wake up before the dawn, sleeping with Snow next to him was the most comfortable he'd ever been and the deepest sleep he'd ever known. Most likely it was purely from ingrained habit that he managed to awaken in time. They were both languid in rising from the bed, unhurried even though they should have been. As Snow turned to lift a dressing robe from her vanity's chair James grinned and paused in fastening up his breeches to reach over into her mussed hair. "I'm afraid we ruined your lily."

She turned her head to see him holding a wilted and squished petal in-between his thumb and forefinger; a smile spread across her face, taking the item from him. "It's fine." She lifted the petal to her nose, sniffed it and then gave him a brief but loving kiss before they parted to continue dressing.

Snow walked with him to the door from her room directly to the porch, now wrapped in the white, lace-edged dressing robe. She was so warm and appealing; it took every ounce of restraint James possessed to not just return to bed with her. At the door he curled his hand into the nape of her neck, covering her mouth with his. Snow furled her hands into the collar of his shirt, rising on her toes to press closer to him. His arms slid around her back to cradle her against his chest, kissing her leisurely and thoroughly. Slowly their lips drew apart.

"Will you come back for breakfast?" she whispered.

One of his hands cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking along it. "Nothing could keep me away. Especially with you leaving tomorrow."

Her hands gripped his shirt tighter, as if that could ward off their impending separation. "I don't want to leave you."

His arms still around her waist pulled her closer still to him, not allowing even a hairsbreadth of space between them. "I don't want to let you go." James rested his forehead against hers. "But we'll just have to make the best of today and tomorrow morning."

Snow buried her face in the crook of his neck. "I _hate_ having to be responsible and always having to do things the right way," her mumble was muffled against his skin.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest; he pressed his lips to her curls. "Well, we didn't _exactly_ do the responsible or so-called 'right thing' last night."

Half-smothered laughter spilled from her. "True."

Finally they pulled apart; James placed one last lingering kiss on her lips. "I'll see you in a little while." He traced the line of her throat with his thumb.

Before he could entirely move away Snow clenched her hands in his shirt, pulled herself up, and pressed a kiss to the scar on his jaw. "I love you." Her hands reluctantly released their grip.

James gave her one of his charming half-grins. "I love you too." He slowly backed away, watching her the entire time.

Snow stood in the doorway, biting her lip, eyes sparkling.

Suddenly he dashed back up and kissed her again; she giggled as he spun her in his arms. He set her back down on her feet, kissing her sweetly over and over.

After a moment's indulgence she pushed back on his shoulders laughing. "You have to go!"

"I know, I know." He pressed his nose into her hair inhaling deeply. "You smell like stargazers."

A giggle bubbled from her as he began backing away again with a giddy grin, but surged forward to her to kiss her again.

"James!" was her laughing protest.

"I'm going," he promised, kissing her one last time before finally walking off, glancing back at her over and over.

Once he was out of sight, Snow buried her face in her hands with a helpless giggle. _Gods, they were hopeless._

James was still grinning as he entered Geppetto's kitchen.

Liam was sitting at the table, coffee cup in front of him and a sardonic look on his face. "Do I _want_ to know where you've been all night?"

The prince cocked an eyebrow. "Liam," he clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, "plausible deniability is a wonderful thing."

"Right," the general said wryly, rising from his seat, "wasn't there, didn't know, couldn't have stopped you even if I tried."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow sat on the floor, legs curled under her, with a towel spread under her, sponge-bathing herself from a basin. She was perfectly fine with this method of cleaning but at the moment she was quite sore from the night before and was silently wishing for a proper hot bath, but that would have to wait until she got home, and truthfully, it was probably a good thing that none of the maids could see her now. Running the sea sponge over her skin she traced fingertips over the evidence from last night, the flares of red from the rasp of James' stubble, bruises on her hips and thighs that fit his fingers and palms, and small red and purple marks swirling over her shoulders, neck and breasts where his teeth and mouth had nipped and sucked on the sensitive skin. She'd have to wear clothing that covered those marks and her hair down for a while, Snow mused, blushing slightly, at least until those particularly visible and incriminating marks faded.

There was a tentative tap on the door; the princess turned her head toward it. "Yes?"

"Snow, it's Ella." The blonde's soft voice drifted through the door. "Can I come in?"

She bit her lip, considering for a moment and then took the towel folded beside her, wrapped it around her waist and held it to her chest. "All right."

Ella slipped in, closing the door quietly behind her; she gave Snow a gentle smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Snow adjusted her grasp on the cloth, holding it more securely.

The younger woman canted her head reprovingly. "Snow, our housekeeper told me enough of what goes on between a man and woman for me to know that the woman is usually at least a little sore the first time." There was a hint of pink to her cheeks, but her gaze was direct.

The princess managed to keep most of the blush off of her face, but nodded. "A bit."

Her friend clasped her hands loosely in front of her. "Would you like some help washing your back?"

Snow's gaze softened at her friend's thoughtfulness. "Ella, you don't have to." Though it would be a great help and relief.

The blonde was already shaking her head and settling down behind Snow. "I know I don't have to, but you're my friend and I want to."

The sponge was gratefully passed from the princess to her friend. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She dipped the sponge in the basin. "Lift your hair."

Pale, delicate hands swept aside ebony curls.

"Oh my!"

Snow hadn't thought about the fact that the bruises from James' grip on her waist and hips would be somewhat visible on her back. "It's fine," she quickly told her friend, blushing.

There was a choking sound from her friend. "Snow, there are bruises on your back and…red marks on your shoulder and neck…"

The dark-haired woman bit her lips, trying to keep from grinning at the scandalized note in the younger woman's voice. "Apparently your housekeeper didn't inform you that some bruising and other marks are natural when a couple makes love." She looked over her shoulder at her abashed friend. "They don't hurt and they weren't inflicted with pain, allow me to assure you," humor flooded her voice.

Ella went beet red. "Oh."

"Ella, you really don't have to–" she tried to give her friend a graceful out.

"No," the still-red-faced woman countered, "no, I want to help."

"Thank you," Snow said quietly; she turned her head to face forward again, clutching the towel to her front with both hands. Her eyes slid shut at the soothing feeling of the damp sponge being drawn across her back.

"So…" The princess had to smile at the tentative note in Ella's voice, waiting for the questions to come. "Was it…I mean…was he…were you…"

Snow took pity on her friend. "It was wonderful. There was some pain but it was over quickly and it was worth it. He was gentle about it and so loving." She couldn't help the cat-who-ate-the-canary grin that spread across her face. "James is a very passionate lover."

"Snow!" Ella's scandalized tone was ruined by the giggle in her voice.

"Well, it's true!" the princess laughed back.

"You said that some bruising and marks happen when a couple…you know." Snow wanted to tease her friend a bit more but restrained herself, deciding to let her get used to her and Red's more open attitudes–taught to them by Granny–about intimacy. "Do you think…that you gave James any such marks?"

A self-satisfied smile spread across Snow's face, liking the thought of having left James with some visible reminder of the night before. "I'm sure I did."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James wasn't a lazy man, but he didn't like just sitting around and doing paperwork either, back home he was out training with his men most every day and here in Lochdubh he'd been about any and all tasks that he could find. So he was in good shape and strong, but somehow, after last night with Snow, he was still sore; he fervently hoped that Snow wasn't hurting too much. He moved to the washbasin in the corner; glancing in the mirror momentarily but then doing a double take. He reached up a hand to move aside the collar of his shirt, left open at the neck, and grinned.

Just below his left collarbone was a small red-purple mottled mark; tilting his head to the side he saw a second at the corner of his jaw. He gave a chuckle as he began to pull his shirt over his head which became a soft hiss of slight pain when a sting flared through his back as the cloth brushed it. Once it was over his head he turned his back to the mirror. A number of small, red crescent-shaped wounds dotted his shoulders and long scratches of a lighter red stretched across his back. When he faced the mirror again he found that his collarbone wasn't the only place that Snow had left a mark.

_Well_, he inwardly mused, _apparently he was going to have to sweat things out in training for a while when he returned home._

"You know, that shit-eating grin is almost enough to make a man want to beat you," Liam commented from where he was leaning against the doorjam, arms crossed.

James turned to his friend. "You know, you and Red are quite well-matched," he moved over to the wardrobe in the corner for fresh clothing, "both of you seem to have issues with knocking."

His general cocked an eyebrow. "And what might the story be behind that?"

The prince, now holding a fresh tunic, walked to the door. "Telling you would ruin your chances of claiming plausible deniability." He grasped the handle telling Liam, "And it's none of your business," then shut the door abruptly and firmly in the other man's face.

"_Ow_," was the wry and not overly-pained comment from the other side.

"You'll live," James told his friend unsympathetically through the wooden barrier.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

When Snow entered the kitchen Ella was silently setting the table and Red was fuming over the sink-full of pots she was cleaning from making breakfast.

"Morning," the princess quietly greeted.

The blonde gave her a tense, warning look, eyes cutting briefly to their dark-haired friend.

Red's head whipped around to glare at Snow. "'Morning'? That's _all_ you have to say after what you did last night?"

Snow's eyes narrowed. "I believe that this is _my_ life, not yours. You're acting like I've committed some high crime."

The younger dark-haired woman slammed down a pan before spinning on the princess. "You're a _crowned princess_! _Future queen_ of Everland, one of the _most_ powerful kingdoms in the realm! He being the heir to the throne of another." A furious hand waved vaguely in James' hypothetical direction. "And you _slept_ together!"

The princess' eyes became jade slits. "As I told you last night, I'm fairly well aware of that fact since _I'm_ the one who committed this so-called sin."

"You're not even engaged!" Red all but shrieked. "What if you're pregnant?"

Snow set her jaw, hands fisting at her sides. "Then we'll just have to get married sooner."

"Red–" Ella attempted to gently cut in.

Red ignored her. "How can you be so blasé about this? Even if you wed, the child will carry the stigma of being conceived out of wedlock and your marriage will be considered nothing more than an attempt to legitimize the child. There might even be whispers that the baby isn't even James'!"

"We know this," Snow hissed at her. "If it comes to that we will deal with it, but our child will never once wonder if he or she is loved, nor will they wonder who their real parents are."

"Gods, how can you two be so selfish?"

"Selfish?" Snow choked out.

Red continued as if the princess hadn't said anything. "And how could James be so irresponsible as to seduce you like that?"

"Did it ever occur to you that_ I_ might have been the one to seduce _him_?" the elder woman countered waspishly.

"Please," Red rolled her eyes, "what do you know of seduction, and he's a man."

Snow did something then that was exceedingly out of character for her: she slapped her best friend across the face.

The younger woman's head had snapped to the side with the slap but she turned it back almost instantly to face Snow again, hand cradling her cheek and looking at the princess aghast.

"How _dare_ you say such things about James?" Tears had welled in Snow's eyes as she glared at Red. "Just because you're refusing to deal with your feelings for Liam–"

"My _what_?" Red attempted to scoff, though it wasn't all that convincing.

The princess' hands were curled into tight fists at her sides. "It's not my fault that you refuse to tell him that you're a wolf!"

"A wolf?"

All three women froze at the voice, color draining entirely from their faces.

"Oh, goddess," Ella whispered, her eyes, which had become the size of saucers, were fixed on the kitchen door.

Snow had clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror, as she slowly turned to face Liam, James, Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy in the doorway. She spun back to her best friend. "Red, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were there! I would never have–"

"No," the younger woman cut in. Her face had gone stony the moment they heard Liam's voice; her eyes on him. "It's better this way actually." Her voice was tight. "Because now he knows, and he'll stop entertaining these delusions that he has, because who wants a monster for a wife?"

"Red!" both of the other women cried out in immediate protest.

"'Scuse me," Red said, jaw clenched, before spinning on heel.

"Red, wait!" Liam, breaking out of his initial shock, dashed after her.

James' eyes went to his beloved in time to see her frame begin to shake with silent sobs, jolting him into action. "Snow." He pulled her into his arms instantly; she buried her face in his chest, small hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as she cried.

While the prince comforted his princess he ignored the four observers standing in an awkward silence.

Ella began taking away a couple of the place-settings, figuring that Red and Liam likely weren't going to be wanting breakfast, attempting to act as if nothing had happened. Geppetto cleared his throat and guided Pinocchio into the house.

"Geppetto?"

The woodworker looked down at the child's inquiring tone.

"What did Snow White mean when she said that Red was a wolf?"

A particularly loud sob escaped the princess at the innocently posed question; James, his arms still tight about her, led her outside.

Jiminy, from his habitual spot on Pinocchio's shoulder, decided that in this moment keeping quiet might be the best option, opting to let Geppetto handle any explanation.

With a sigh the craftsman settled the boy into a chair at the table before taking one beside it. "The first thing you should know is that there is no need to be afraid…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Red castigated herself as she stormed through the forest. How could she have been so _foolish_? So oblivious? She should have smelled them or at _least_ heard them coming! _Gods_, she was an _idiot_!

"Red!"

Liam calling her name caused a pain so acute that it would have been more merciful to just stab her through the heart. "Go away, Liam! You know the truth now, so just leave now and don't drag this out."

A strong hand locked around her upper arm, immovable as a manacle, and spun her to face him. "I _told_ you last night that I'm not going anywhere."

She tried to shake off his grip, unsuccessfully. "I don't want your pity," she spat out. "I release you from your promise; now get the hell away from me."

Her struggles only got her other arm caught in the grip of his other hand as well. "And who the _hell_ said I _wanted_ to be 'released' from my promise?" he hissed back.

She struggled harder. "Leave, damn it!"

"No," he told her adamantly. "Why do you think I would want to leave? Why do you think I wouldn't want to stay?"

"Because no other men ever have!" she finally half-screamed half-sobbed. She met his eye with tears in hers. "No one wants a monster! And it would hurt less for you to go now than later," she managed between gritted teeth.

When Liam moved it wasn't to push her away, no, just the opposite, he hauled her against his chest and crushed his lips to hers.

Red resisted, struggling for several moments, doing everything she could not to give in, but she was fighting a losing battle. How could she resist the pull to him when everything in her felt it was as natural as breathing to be swept up and get lost in him?

Slowly, her defenses crumbled; she melted into him. When her arms came up to wind around his neck Liam finally released his grip on them and allowed his hands to splay across her back, holding her to him. Tears escaped from under her eyelids at the bittersweet release of finally giving in to her feelings and being in his arms, part of her still unable to accept that he was staying.

After long sweet, passionate moments their lips finally parted; tears were now streaming down Red's face. "Please," she begged, voice barely a breath away from a sob, "please don't do this. Don't give me everything when you're just going to take it away."

He cupped her face between his hands, thumbs wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I keep telling you, Red, I'm not going to give up on you."

Her eyes slowly opened to meet his, tears still slipping from her eyelashes.

"And I'll keep telling you and working to prove it to you until you believe it," he added.

"Why? Why me?" She searched his eyes for answers. "This _curse_ runs in my family. Any children I have will likely have it as well. How can you want me with that risk? I don't think I even _want_ to have children and risk passing it on to them."

"Red," he gave a short chuckle, "we haven't even tried to court yet." He traced his hand down the side of her face. "I just want the chance to court you. Children…" Liam grinned, "children I'm more than willing to wait on discussing and quite happy to adopt if that's what we decide."

"Liam," her voice quavered.

He gently covered her mouth with his. "We have time, Red. And I'm a pretty patient man."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had drawn Snow over to a bench under one of the trees a short distance from the house. He was cradling her against his chest, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other hand cupped around the back of her neck, fingers tunneled into her hair. Snow clung to his arm, face buried in his shoulder, attempting to muffle her soft crying.

"I can't believe I betrayed Red like that!"

"It was a mistake, Snow," he soothed, stroking a hand up and down her back. "Red knows you didn't mean for us to hear. She'll forgive you soon, if she hasn't already."

"I betrayed my best friend, James!" she cried pulling back slightly to look him in the eye. "The woman I love as and consider a sister!"

He cradled her face in his hands. "You didn't know we were there," he reiterated. "Red knows that you wouldn't have said any such thing if you _had_ known." He held her gaze intently. "Red knows you; she knows you're not malicious and wouldn't hurt her like this intentionally."

Snow sniffed indelicately, lifting her hands to swipe at the tears on her cheeks. "I feel so stupid," she groaned. "We don't really even mention Red's heritage that often."

He brushed the curtain of her hair over her shoulder. "You wouldn't want a secret like that getting out."

A short, mirthless laugh escaped her. "No, that's not really why we don't talk about it." She gave him a small, wry smile. "In Everbrooke it's not a secret."

James frowned. "Oh?"

Her shoulders lifted briefly in a sad facsimile of a shrug. "Everyone in town knows about Red's family, as does my family…actually a good portion of the kingdom knows."

His eyebrows shot up. "Most kingdoms I know of would have run off such a family or hunted them down."

A frown furrowed her brow. "It's not their fault. They can't help what they are and her family has found ways to control it, so most of our people just leave them be and keep the truth of what they are from outsiders."

He gazed at her, a smile lifting his lips. "You protect them."

"There hasn't been a time in our kingdom's recorded history where Red's family hasn't been present," she explained quietly. "We don't know when they first came; it's been thought that perhaps they were the first family to come to Everland. They used to be more numerous, but their numbers have severely dwindled over time. Some killed because of what they were, others dying without having children because they didn't want to risk passing on the trait, though not all of the decedents have inherited it. They are as much part of the very fabric of Everland as my family."

He gently massaged the back of her neck; seeing that her talking about it was helping calm her he asked, "When did Red learn of her heritage?"

Snow leaned into his ministrations. "She's always known, we all have, it was never a secret from her. But as for her transforming," she swallowed, eyes sliding shut as a lone tear slipped out, "we actually thought that she'd been spared that." She reached over and took his other hand in both of hers, drawing it to her lap where she slid her fingers between his. "Usually when a child has inherited that trait it's fairly obvious early on; Red didn't seem to show any of the signs, though in hindsight there were a few that were subtle enough that they were overlooked. And normally the transformations would begin at about ten years of age."

James' long fingers rubbed particularly tense muscles in her shoulder. "Red didn't change at that age I take it?"

"No." Her fingers traced the faint battle scars on the back of his hand with which she was becoming quite familiar.

"How did it happen?"

Snow's eyes lifted to stare out over the water. "It was the night of Red's thirteenth birthday…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_If we get caught, our parents are going to kill us," Snow muttered to her best friend as they snuck through the woods with a few of their other friends. Snow was among the eldest of the group of teens, most of them being around Red's age since it was her birthday they were clandestinely celebrating._

"_Don't be so pessimistic, Snow," the younger girl teased._

_They'd all snuck off shortly after sunset to go have a party of their own in the woods, buzzing with the rebellious excitement of doing so._

"_Yeah, Princess."_

_Both girls turned at the chimed-in comment, Red's smile grew and a light pink suffused her cheeks at the sight of her crush, the blacksmith's son, Peter._

_He grinned broadly at them. "Stop worrying, it's gonna be tons of fun!"_

"_Oh, I'm sure of that," the princess commented wryly, "the only question is how much trouble we're going to be in."_

_He abruptly stepped in front of the two girls, causing them to stop. "In order to get into trouble we'd have to be caught…so…" he began backing away grinning roguishly at them, "we don't get caught."_

_Red giggled, jogging after him, casting one unbridled grin at her friend before doing so._

_Snow offered a weak one in return; no matter how she tried to get in the spirit something akin to dread had settled in her gut. "I have a bad feeling about this," she murmured under her breath._

_They'd reached the clearing and begun setting up. It really wasn't much more than an unsupervised, nighttime picnic with the added twist that one of their friends had swiped a couple of bottles of Happy's homebrew._

_Even as Snow settled in with the others, her eyes continued to dart around anxiously, searching for a threat that she could feel all the way into her bones, but just didn't seem to be there. She couldn't name at the time what it was that bothered her so much, but years later she wondered how different things might have been had she truly listened to the feeling and talked Red out of going._

_Just as one of the boys pulled out a guitar to begin playing a cloud drifted out of the way of the newly-risen full moon, bathing their little camp in the haunting pale light._

_The vague threat that had been nagging at the princess all night became deafening alarm bells in her mind as Red suddenly went rigid._

_The cup in Snow's hand slipped from her grasp as she saw her friend's eyes start to glow a gold color; she leapt to her feet. "Run!" she screamed._

_The others looked around confused, but quickly their confusion became horror and they scrambled away as the birthday girl's usually lithe form began to grow and change. They all scattered in different directions; for reasons Snow and Red would never be able to entirely explain, except possibly because of Red's burgeoning feelings for him, once fully transformed the wolf chose to go after Peter._

_Snow had skidded to a stop, heart pounding, mind racing at seeing the boy being chased by her transformed friend. Turning she moved to dash after them, but halted when Peter managed to scramble up a tree, feet missing being swiped by giant paws by mere inches. Once she was assured that the wolf couldn't reach him but was still intent on doing so, the princess raced off to the one person who would be able to help Red._

_Fists pounded frantically on the chipped red-painted door. "Granny! Granny! We need help, _please_!"_

_Relief crashed over her as she heard soft, muffled grumbling approaching the door. Snow was fairly certain she had never seen Granny's eyebrows climb so high on her forehead as when she saw her standing there._

"_Princess, what on Earth are you doing here at this hour?"_

"_Granny you have to come _now_! We all went out for Red's birthday and…" her head turned to gaze at the full moon._

_The woman who had been grandmother to her all her life went as pale as the orb over their heads. "Gods preserve us." She yanked open the door of the closet next to the entrance, pulling out an already-loaded crossbow and snatching up an old, familiar, red cloak. "Show me where, child, _hurry_!"_

_The time it took them to get to where the wolf was still terrorizing Peter at the tree seemed an eternity but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. As it was they were barely in time._

_The wolf had been slamming its body against the tree, causing it to shudder violently; Peter was struggling to hang on. Just as Snow and Granny broke through the trees the boy finally lost his grip, plummeting to the ground and landing with a harsh cry of pain. The older woman had already taken aim; the sliver arrow sliced into the wolf's flank just in time to send it sprawling before completing its soaring leap for the prone boy. The princess and innkeeper had rushed over, Snow to the fallen teen and Granny to cover the changeling with the red fabric._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"I don't remember anything from the moments just before the transformation until I changed back under the cloak." Red had been very blunt in her description of what had occurred during her thirteenth birthday, trying to shock Liam, force him to see what she saw as reality. To prove to him just how dangerous she really was. "If Snow hadn't gotten Granny there as quickly as she did…"

"But she did," the general countered from his spot on the rock beside her.

Red frowned at him. "Peter ended up with a broken leg, a bad one; from what I've heard he continues to walk with a limp to this day!"

The lack of judgment in his eyes actually hurt more than condemnation would have. "You had no control over what you were doing in that form. It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have been out there _at all_!" she snapped back.

"True," Liam agreed mildly, "but you were just being a normal teenager."

"I'm _not_ a normal person!" she all but shouted. _Why wouldn't he see that?_

"No," again his voice was level and easy, "but you didn't know that then."

"I knew my family history! I shouldn't have gone out on a wolf night!"

"You thought that you hadn't inherited it."

"Why are you making excuses for me?" Red cried, almost anguished.

"I'm not." He rested his forearms on his knees, loosely lacing his fingers together, gaze steady on her. "What I am doing is pointing out that you were a child; children make mistakes. After that did you ever go without your cloak on a wolf night again?"

"Of course not!" she looked almost horrified at the very thought.

"See." One hand gestured to her. "You had no idea that you'd be a threat to your friends that one time, but now that you do know you could possibly hurt someone you take the necessary precautions."

Bewilderment painted her expression, unsure of how to take his words and afraid to let them in.

"Red, you made a mistake; now, someone may have gotten hurt from it but no one died." Liam shifted closer. "And you _learned_ from that; you haven't allowed the situation to repeat itself." He sat back. "How many people do you think have made mistakes, gotten others hurt, and even killed, _didn't_ learn from it, and made the same mistakes again?"

Conflicted, Red stared out into the woods.

"Think about it," he advised. "And decide if you can let go of this guilt, self-hatred and possibly see a future that doesn't necessarily hold this self-imposed spinsterhood."

The intent look he gave her was impossible to turn from, and truthfully an oh-so-deeply buried part of her wanted to take his recommendation, wanted what he was offering.

Hope for a different life kindled.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James' thumb stroked the skin behind Snow's ear gently, trying to soothe what was left of the tension in her. "What happened to Peter?"

She turned her gaze to him. "His family was actually from another town; they had moved to Everbrooke when he was a baby, they decided to move back to their old home. They swore not to breathe a word about Red; I don't think they really blamed her per se, but after what happened they didn't want to remain in the area either." She twisted her hands with his in her lap. "She still blames herself for it, even though it wasn't really her fault, and she's never mentioned marriage or children for herself ever since. Nor have any the men shown interest in her beyond casual flirtation."

"Well," he pressed his lips to her forehead, "Liam is just as stubborn as she is and isn't going to let her go easily."

Snow tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "I hope so. I want her to stop avoiding love so much. I want her to be happy, not just content. There's nothing wrong with not getting married if that's what you _truly_ want, but not doing so because you're afraid to be in love?"

With a half grin, James slid his hand to cup her cheek, kissing her temple before leaning back to couple his eyes to hers again. "If things are meant to be, they'll work out."

The corners of her lips finally lifted slightly, one of her hands rose to curl around his wrist. "You have such faith."

He leaned his head forward to rub his nose against hers, chuckling softly. "David used to tease me about it."

Her other hand rose to clench in the fabric of his shirt, mouth canting closer to his. "Hmm." A real smile finally graced her lips. "I like it."

Covering her hand with one of his, James brushed his lips against hers. "I'm glad."

Snow moved her head closer to his, making the teasing contact a real kiss, love and gratitude for his gentle understanding and helping her in this painful moment. After several leisurely moments Snow pulled back, rubbing her nose affectionately against his, drawing a grin to his face.

Glancing over his shoulder she noticed something sitting on the bench beside him. "What's that?" A smile lifted her lips, looking back at him.

James looked to his other side. "I had almost forgotten." He reached over and picked up the stargazer lily and presented it to her. "I picked this up in the market on the way here. To replace the one that was ruined last night."

Accepting the gift, she smiled sweetly at him. "I didn't mind, James."

"I know." He took the flower from her again and reached around to tuck it in the back of her hair. "I wanted to get you another." His fingers brushed through her hair. "And besides," he gave her one of his half-grins, "I like the way they smell on you." His nose brushed her long locks, drawing in the mixture of stargazer, _lacrimae lunaris_, chocolate and cinnamon; scents that shouldn't have gone together but smelled so right on her. It smelled like home.

Snow laughed softly, leaning in to him. "I'll take that as a compliment." Humor was bubbling in her voice.

"It was meant as such," his tone held equal amusement, fingers tunneling into her mane. He pressed his lips to her temple. "Feel better?" His voice vibrated against her skin.

A smile curled the princess' lips. "Yes, and I'll be better still once I apologize to Red." She paused, and then turned her head, pressing a kiss to the scar on his chin. "Thank you."

James pulled back, a gentle smile on his face. "Always."

His fingers sifting through her locks revealed the red-purple mark behind her ear, drawing his attention to the discoloration marring her skin. Tracing a thumb over it, he grinned at her. "You know, you're lucky to be able to hide this; I'm not so fortunate." He turned his head to the side, showing her the similar mark she'd left on his jaw.

"Poor, baby," she teased, pressing a kiss to the spot; pulling back, mischief sparkled in her eyes. "I can always hit you with a rock to cover it up."

He snorted. "I think once was enough for a lifetime." James rested his forehead against hers, concern touching his expression. "How do you feel after last night? Are you hurting?"

Snow shook her head, stroking a hand along his face. "A little sore, but it's nothing." She smiled sweetly at him. "I'm mostly just happy about last night."

His thumbs rubbed her waist where he was gently holding her. "As am I." He grinned teasingly again. "Though, I won't be able to go without a shirt for a while."

Her expression was a mixture of apology, humor and pride. "Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head. "No, my back's just a bit scratched up."

Snow skimmed her hands soothingly down his back, placing a kiss on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

James burrowed his face into the side of her neck, pressing his lips to the love bite behind her ear. "What about you?" His voice was slightly muffled against her skin, palms drifting along her sides. "Did I leave any other evidence?"

Snow pulled away, grinning back at him with humor. "Suffice to say that I won't be letting Lucy help me dress or bathe for a while."

They both thought that they probably shouldn't be feeling quite so proud of the fact that they'd left such marks on each other and that they bore such marks. But they did.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

For the remaining four, breakfast was an unusually subdued affair with the only real talk being Pinocchio asking questions about Red being a wolf and Geppetto and Ella answering. Jiminy was fairly quiet, mostly listening to the woodworker and young woman's answers, and occasionally chiming in with a few inquiries of his own.

They were almost finished when Snow and James finally stepped through the door; the couple gave their friends warm smiles and nods before they went over to get plates and serve themselves. Just as they were settling down at the table the two remaining members of their group appeared.

Snow was back on her feet in an instant and moving over to stand before the woman she called sister, tears once more welling in her eyes, hands being wrung like a wet dish cloth. "Red, I'm _so_ sorry, I never–"

With a tight hug Red cut her friend off. "Snow, I know." She pulled back to meet the princess's eyes. "I forgive you."

The elder woman locked her best friend in another embrace. "Thank you." She released the hug enough to look at Red again. "And…I'm sorry about slapping you."

There was a wry tilt to Red's lips. "Yes, well," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "I really shouldn't have said what I did. It was wrong of me to speak like that." Her expression became serious. "_I'm_ sorry."

A small grin lifted her mouth. "I forgive you."

After one more hug the women finally released each other; Snow went back to the table and Red headed over with Liam to get their food.

The moment that Red sat down, Pinnochio leaned forward and eagerly asked, "Are you _really_ a wolf?"

Several of the adults choked on whatever they had been consuming at that moment. Red, at the utter lack of fear in the child's tone, couldn't help guffawing, burying her face in her hands while her friends attempted to recover.

_Gods, this was why she liked children._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

After Pinocchio's guileless question the atmosphere in the kitchen lightened to a jovial one; Red laughingly answered the child's question and a few others he posed. Finally Geppetto gently chided the boy that he needed to let Red eat; Pinocchio's mouth instantly snapped shut, apologizing softly, Red brushed it off with a grin before taking her first bite of breakfast.

The woodworker quietly cleared his throat to get the attention of the others around the table. "I spoke with Barney on the way here; he and a few other friends had heard you were all leaving soon and asked that I invite you all to dinner at Adder's Cove."

Adder's Cove was one of the more secluded beaches in Lochdubh, visitors rarely ever found it so it was a favorite spot to be used by the locals.

"They don't have to do that," Snow protested.

Geppetto was shaking his head. "They know this, but you all are able to visit so rarely that they all wanted the chance to visit a bit more and to say goodbye. It won't be a large party, small and fairly quiet."

The five young people looked at each other; with wry grins and nods they agreed.

"When are you planning on leaving tomorrow?" James took a bite, glancing at the three women in question.

The friends looked at each other in consultation.

"Mid-morning?" Red offered.

The other two nodded.

"That would likely be best," Ella agreed.

Under the table James' free hand slid over to capture Snow's, she twined her fingers with his. Both contemplated the thought of their impending separation with distaste and desperately wished for the time when they wouldn't have to face such a thing.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"What is wrong, Pinocchio?" Geppetto had noticed the boy's growing disquiet since their friends' impending departure had been mentioned at the breakfast table, but the craftsman had decided to wait until it was just himself, Pinocchio and Jiminy in his workshop to mention it.

The child lifted a sad gaze to the older man. "I…I'm just wondering what's going to happen to me." He bit his lip. "I mean, you all said that I could stay with you for a while, but what happens now?" He pushed a sanding stone from side to side with his finger.

Geppetto and Jiminy glanced at each other knowingly; the woodworker then crouched down to Pinocchio's height. "That is something I wanted to discuss with you, Pinocchio."

Reluctantly, the boy lifted his eyes to the man's.

"I spoke with Jiminy," Geppetto continued, gently placing work-worn hands on the child's shoulders, "and if you wish, I want you both to stay here with me."

Pinocchio's eyes went wide. "You want me to _stay_? Forever? You want me to be your apprentice?"

"More than that, Pinocchio." The lonely craftsman took a deep breath, nerves even getting to him. "I wish to adopt you, if you would like that."

If it was possible Pinocchio's eyes went even wider. "You want to _adopt_ me?"

"Yes." Geppetto nodded his head for added confirmation. "I want you to be my son."

"You'll be my father? My _real _father? We'll be a family?"The boy turned his saucer-sized eyes first to Geppetto and then to Jiminy, seeking confirmation of what he had just heard.

The cricket was giving the cricket version of a smile and nodding. "Geppetto asked me to stay and I said I would."

Pinocchio turned his attention once more to Geppetto, biting his lip anxiously again. "Does this mean…can I…can I call you 'Father'?"

The woodworker began blinking furiously, trying to hold the tears that burned in his eyes at bay. "I would be honored to have you call me 'Father', Pinocchio."

The widest and brightest grin either man or cricket had ever seen broke across the child's face just before he barreled into Geppetto's chest, hugging him tightly and then pulling his conscience into the embrace. Three souls who had known little-to-no family all their lives finally had found it once again with each other.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Soooooooo…thoughts? There will be at least one more chapter with them in Lochdubh, before they have to return to "real life". I've had the scene where Red walking in on Snow and James in my mind basically since the moment I began contemplating having them sleep together. As for Snow slapping Red…O.O I actually didn't see that coming… What did you think of how I dealt with incorporating Peter, how Red knew her family heritage, how she became a wolf? I know some of you are really anxious for more Ella/Thomas and I promise it's coming but they have to leave Lochdubh first! I'm going to miss having them in Lochdubh because things are so much less restrained, but I can't wait to get back to all the other characters! XD Now, I have to go work on the next chapter of Hot Chocolate…*scurries off*


	15. Chapter 13: Man is a Giddy Thing

Hello, my lovely readers! :-D Yes, it is FINALLY here! I'm sorry that the chapters have slowed down so much, but it is in part due to the fact that it is now summer and summer is the busiest time of year at my work. Thank you for all of your support and encouragement! You have no idea how much your reviews, tweets, messages, alerts and faves mean! :-D I hope that you like the chapter I had quite a good time writing it!

**Sassy18**, sweetie…how do I thank thee let me count the ways… ;-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 13: Man is a Giddy Thing…**

He should have seen it coming, really, James would later reflect ruefully. It was a bit before lunch when he entered Henry's kitchen; Geppetto was the sole occupant, sitting at the table. With a smile and a nod to the older man, James moved over to the cupboard for a glass.

The kitchen door slammed shut with a loud clank; prompting the prince to look up.

Red stood just in front of it, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

_Oh, hell…_ he mentally groaned, easily able to read the expression on the woman's face. He turned to Geppetto, hoping for some help, but found the craftsman had also leveled a very direct look at him. He sighed, letting his head drop forward for a moment before shifting to face them both. May as well get it over with… "Yes?"

"I have the strong desire to beat you senseless," Red remarked flatly through clenched teeth. "You _slept_ with my sister!" she abruptly exploded.

James' eyes closed for a moment, swaying back slightly at the force of her shout, ears ringing a little. When his eyes opened again he met the young woman's gaze levelly. "As Snow pointed out before, that's not really your business," he countered firmly.

"Snow is familia to us." Both young people turned to Geppetto at his chastising tone. "It _is_ our business if you have taken Principessa as your mistress."

"She is _not_ my mistress!" the prince snarled, advancing on the pair, deeply insulted that they would even _think_ he'd do such a thing to Snow. "Nor would I _ever_ ask her to be!"

"Then what do _you_ call it?" Red sneered back.

James went toe-to-toe with the woman; she didn't back down in the slightest from the fury burning in his eyes. "I love her. I'm going to _marry_ her. She is going to be my _wife_ and _queen_."

Not even slightly appeased, her eyes narrowed and she demanded, "Then why the hell haven't you _asked_ her yet?"

"Because I'm not going to send her home to face her father with an engagement ring on her finger _alone_," he shot back hotly. "And, as _Snow_ has repeatedly reminded me, I have to go set things right with my own family and straighten out several other matters first." James turned his head to look at Geppetto, who continued to gaze at him evenly. "No matter _how much_ I wish to do otherwise." He brought his attention back to Red. "Snow and I have _discussed_ this. _We_ have made our feelings for each other and our desires for _our_ future plain. She knows my intentions."

Red's piercing eyes stared into his searchingly for several moments longer. "Fine," she snapped. "But that _doesn't_ explain or make right you _sleeping_ with her!"

James had been leaning forward slightly, he shifted back, straightening up, and the anger in his gaze cooled a little. "Perhaps not in society's eyes or yours. But it was _our_ choice. It was what _we _wanted and we're _not_ going to apologize for it. Though, neither are we going to make excuses."

Before he'd even finished speaking Red was already cutting in, "What if she's pregnant?"

"Then she'll let me know and we'll get married sooner," he immediately informed her. The prince raised one eyebrow. "Red, if we had our way–if our lives weren't so governed by politics, social strictures and structures, and family; if we weren't both heirs to _large_ kingdoms–we would have been engaged long ago and we'd already _be_ married."

The two young people continued to stare each other down, neither giving an inch. Geppetto, at least satisfied that the couple he cared for so much intended to do right by each other and their respective kingdoms, reached up to place a calming hand on Red's arm. "Redell," his accented voice was soft and soothing.

The young woman scowled for a moment, but finally gave a jerky nod. "Fine." She spun on her heel. "But I _still_ don't like what you two did."

The prince rolled his eyes. "I'll note your opinion and make sure to take it under advisement in the future," he dryly informed her.

His cheek earned him a snort of laughter from Red just before she exited the kitchen. At the doorway she stopped and turned back to him. "James, you now know that I turn into a wolf for three days every month. My next transformation is in a week; if my sister doesn't have a ring on her finger by the following time I change, I might find myself wandering into your kingdom without my hood…" Hazel-brown eyes pointedly bore into him.

His eyebrows shot up. "Duly noted."

She nodded sharply and finally left.

James chuckled ruefully and went over to the cabinet and pump to get a glass of water.

Geppetto shook his head amusedly, satisfied that the pair was at least going to get along now. He looked down at the table, returning his attention to the plans he was drawing up, he wouldn't need to finish the project for a few months but he wanted it to be perfect…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Liam and Ella were sitting at a table on the porch facing the water, working together to liberate the juicy seeds from pieces of a pomegranate when Red came through the door.

"So," the general casually began, "am I going to be picking up my prince's body parts from around the kitchen?"

Ella choked on a laugh around the seed she'd popped in her mouth.

The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes as she dropped into a seat between the pair with boneless grace. "Don't worry; I left your liege in one piece and still breathing." She eyed them both quizzically. "You heard that?"

"A bit of it." Ella's tan hands gently worked the crimson, jewel-like seeds loose of the fruit.

Liam lifted one eyebrow. "Which of you said something about Snow being James' mistress? Because that was probably the angriest I've _ever _heard him."

Red's long, pale hands had joined their efforts. "Geppetto."

Matching surprised looks were cast her way, the general's eyes narrowed slightly.

"He was mostly trying to provoke James to see his reaction." She gave a dismissive wave. "Neither of us actually believed any such thing."

"And did you two get the reaction you were looking for?" Liam inquired archly.

Quite absorbed in trying to work a few particularly stubborn seeds loose, she didn't look up as she responded offhandedly, "Oh, he's so in love with her he can't even see straight."

Ella stifled a laugh.

"By the by, where _is_ Snow?" Red asked.

"Down by the water with Pinocchio and Jiminy." The blonde nodded toward the beach.

The dark-haired woman looked in the direction indicated to see Snow by the water's edge with the child–the cricket presumably in his habitual spot on the boy's shoulder–crouched down beside him and showing him something in her palm. The ginger-haired boy stared down at whatever the princess held with wide-eyed curiosity, hanging on her every word.

"That woman _needs_ to be a mother," Red muttered. "Hope 'Prince Charming's' prepared to have a whole passel of children."

"Well, we're certainly planning on having several."

The trio turned at the prince's wry tone as he came through the door; he cast them all a sardonic look before his eyes went unerringly to Snow.

"Red," James began absently, "word of warning, Liam gossips like an old woman…please, don't encourage him." He ignored his general's choked protestations and the two women's ringing laughter, heading straight for his beloved. "Oh," he called over his shoulder as an afterthought, "congratulate Geppetto, he's adopting Pinocchio."

Their heads turned as the prince gestured over his shoulder in the vague direction of the door where they found Geppetto standing, rolling his eyes heavenward at the prince's nonchalant way of springing the news.

The woodworker leveled a pointed gaze at the three young people at the table. "Yes," he confirmed amusedly, "your machinations _did_ work."

They had the good grace to at least _look_ abashed.

He shook his head before casting his eyes toward where James was now crouched with Snow and Pinocchio. The prince listened to the child rattle on, likely about what the princess had been telling him, with a warm, indulgent grin on his face. He reached up to lingeringly brush a lock of hair behind her ear in an absent and familiar, loving gesture. Her body naturally leaned into his a bit, hand coming up to curl around his elbow and cheek resting on his shoulder. Geppetto doubted that either was fully aware of these affectionate exchanges that were as natural as breathing to them.

_Yes_, he inwardly mused, _that was going as it should._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sun was nearing the horizon when their group reached Adder's Cove which was already abuzz with people setting up for the gathering. When their friends noticed their arrival cheerful greetings were called out and a few of the children ran over to grab Pinocchio and pull him off to play; the adults meanwhile moved to help with the preparations, laughing and chatting with friends from the village. There were probably about twenty-five to thirty people, including children, in attendance, large for a small gathering but nowhere _near_ the size of the summer festival. The local beekeeper broke out a few bottles of his best mead for the occasion alongside the ale and wine.

Red, Snow, James and Liam found themselves pulled to-and-fro by friends who wished to talk to them and catch up on things that they hadn't gotten a chance to since they'd been in town.

Ella was a bit overwhelmed by the inundation of people and all the names and faces that were being introduced to her. She tried to remain close to one of her friends throughout all of this, so that she didn't feel quite so lost.

Pinocchio apparently was settling in now that he had the reassuring stability of knowing Geppetto was adopting him and tore around the crowd with other children. A mischievous streak, which had been toned down until now, was coming through and sending a few amused head-shakes his direction.

James and Snow were separated a great deal more often than either really liked; Liam meanwhile somehow managed to maneuver things so that he was with Red almost constantly.

Only a tiny sliver of the sun still hung above the horizon when Snow attempted to, for what felt like the dozenth time, make her way over to James. However, tiny hands latched onto hers, stopping her; she looked down to see Pinocchio and a few other children staring at her pleadingly.

"Snow, they said that you can sing really nice," the ginger-haired boy said, tilting his head at his new friends. "Can you sing a song for us?"

Snow opened her mouth to respond with a "Maybe later."

"_Please_?" the group begged, drawing out the "e."

The princess sighed, casting a longing gaze at her prince, who had noticed her approach and turned to face her, giving her a questioning look. She shrugged helplessly at him and then looked back down at the boys and girls. "All right."

"Yay!" they all cheered, jumping up and down excitedly.

James watched curiously as the children pulled his love over in the direction of the fire where logs and benches had been set up. Snow stopped by Red and quietly voiced a request to her friend who nodded, eyebrows raised, in agreement. The younger woman had then gone over to one of the musicians who was strumming on a guitar and apparently asked to borrow the instrument, to which he agreed, handing it over with a smile. Each of the dark-haired women took a seat, the children eagerly settling close around them on logs, benches and the sand. Geppetto was seated near them and Pinocchio opted to settle in his new father's lap, snuggling into the man's chest; the woodworker rested his cheek atop his child's ginger curls, a contented smile on his face.

The prince lowered himself to sit on the ground with his back against a rock, near enough to hear whatever they played; Snow's eyes frequently turned to him, smiling at him but also biting her lip a bit nervously. Red plucked the strings of the guitar, tuning it a little, once she was apparently satisfied she nodded to the princess with a softly voiced "Ready?"

To which Snow responded affirmatively, hugging the thin wrap she was wearing tighter around her arms. James settled in to listen.

The younger brunette's fingers gently began to caress the strings, soft notes flowed out; after a few beats Snow's voice joined in and James' breath caught in his chest. He hadn't realized she could sing so well. The song was unfamiliar to him, sweet, soft, soothing but at the same time haunting and bittersweet. During the chorus Red's smoky voice harmonized with Snow's crystalline one.

A movement near the women caught his eye; a couple of their friends had settled near Snow and Red, the raven-haired woman, Calla, carrying a drum and the man with a short ebony ponytail, Ash, held a stringed instrument that he began to draw a long almost mournful sound from, a counter point to the clear tone of the guitar. With the start of the next verse Calla's hand gracefully thumped against the skin on the drum, a low thrum resonating from it. At a certain point in the verse Ash began harmonizing with Snow, drawing her attention; she smiled warmly at him and he grinned in return.

James _knew_ the exchange was just a friendly one, at least on Snow's part, but for some reason he still felt a sting of jealousy. Gods, did he ever _hate_ feeling like that, especially when it was over something so harmless.

Ash continued to lend his voice to Snow and Red's, their varied cadences blending and weaving into the music. When the final notes faded, James, to distract himself from the jealousy, wondered if the song had been a lullaby or a lament, or somehow perhaps both.

Snow seemed ready to quit, but at the pleading of others she acquiesced to doing two more songs. When considering the next song her eyes drifted to meet James' blue ones and her lips curled into a knowing smile; she leaned over and whispered to Red low enough that no one else could hear, but likely it was her request because immediately after Red played a new song. Snow's emerald orbs never wavered from his as she sang what was blatantly a love song…to him, her eyes sparkling with love and teasing, but also with the slightest hint of shyness that she was doing a creditable job of masking. James' lips lifted into a responding half-grin. It was hard to tell in the flickering firelight but he thought that the lightest of blushes might have spread across her cheeks, reading the promise in his eyes.

The third song was a request from one of their other friends, an old folk song that was from Phillip's kingdom originally, but it had spread to many others. Snow sang of fay-folk, more ancient than the fairies they knew now, more mysterious and elusive, lost to legend and the mists of time. She closed, letting the last word trail almost seductively through the night air and for a beat all was silent, but rather than remaining so the impromptu band suddenly struck up a fast-paced jig and Snow found herself pulled into the dance along with several others. The group all but laughed themselves silly, barely keeping up with the familiar song that had been sprung on them unexpectedly. They spun and whirled, clapping and cheering along with the song until it ended–finally in James' opinion. Some of the dancers tried to draw Snow in for another but she begged off, promising, "Later."

A smile spread across James' face as his princess made her way to him, barely pausing to respond to comments from friends.

Her answering grin was warm and loving, teasing alight in her eyes. "Is this seat taken?" she inquired with faux-innocence.

James chuckled, reaching up to cinch his hand around her wrist and gently tugged her down beside him. "It is now." His arm wrapped around her shoulders and she nestled into his side.

"Was that _jealousy_ I saw earlier?" she asked in a mock-scandalized voice.

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "Just maybe…a _little_."

She giggled, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "What on _Earth_ do you have to be jealous about from _Ash_? He _rarely_ is romantically interested in women; men are usually more his preference. And he prefers redheads either way."

With a roll of his eyes he pointed out wryly, "It's not exactly a _rational_ emotion."

Her fingers slid up to trace the scar on his chin. "You know you don't have any reason to be, right?" Her hand stilled. "I don't want anyone but you."

His free hand curled around hers, lifting her fingers the scant remaining centimeters to his lips and pressing a kiss to their tips. "I know," he assured her, bringing their joined hands to rest over his heart. "I know that it's foolish for me to feel any such thing but I still do." He rested his forehead against hers.

"If it makes you feel any better I have been irrationally, momentarily jealous of you and a woman," Snow admitted.

James quirked an eyebrow. "It does. Who?"

Pink stained her cheeks. "You're going to laugh," she mumbled.

"Why would I laugh?" he gently countered.

Snow took a deep breath before confessing, "You remember when we met Ella and you had to carry her?"

Both of his eyebrows shot up. "_Ella_?"

She flushed. "I said it was a _moment_ of irrationality." She turned her face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent deeply.

James buried his nose in her hair, the petals of the stargazer lily adorning her curls brushing his cheek as he did so. "I guess we're both just a little possessive about each other." His arm tightened around her. "I don't share, Snow," he murmured.

Her fingers had curled into the front of his shirt and clenched in the fabric. "I don't either." She tilted her head back to meet his eyes.

He covered her furled hand with his, lips curling into a half-smile. "I suppose that clears up any misunderstandings on that issue," he softly joked.

She grinned in response. "Indeed." She tugged on the collar of his shirt pulling him down for a kiss, which he happily obliged. "Hmm," she sighed contentedly after they parted and settled back into his side.

James held her closer to him, thinking that nothing compared to having her in his arms.

Snow's fingers idly tracing over his chest found the leather cord of his pendant under his shirt, she allowed them to follow the raised line to where it lay. Frowning slightly, her hand splayed where the sliver of _Verum Aquilonem_ was; her head lifted to look at James. "Where's your mother's ring?" She hadn't felt it on the cord alongside the pendant like she'd expected.

With a half-grin her prince unwound one arm to reach into his pocket and drew out the circle of gold, showing it to her.

"Why did you take it off?" Her eyes went back to his curiously.

James gazed at the ring thoughtfully. "I haven't told you the story about this, have I?"

"Beyond the fact that it was your mother's, no," Snow confirmed with a shake of her head. Snuggling closer to him, preparing to listen to the story, she gazed up at him. "Tell me."

"It actually is from my…father's family." From his pause and obvious unease at using the word Snow knew which father he meant. "My mother gave it to me years ago, shortly after David was killed, but only told me the story behind it when she told me about my paternity."

The princess could see how much the subject still unsettled him; she ran a soothing hand up and down his chest, before resting it once more over his heart, reassuring him she was there.

He pressed a grateful kiss to the top of her head before continuing, "It was passed down in his family to the first child to get married as an engagement ring."

Snow's breath audibly caught, eyes snapping to his face; James had to force himself to keep his eyes focused on the ring in his grasp, knowing that if he met her gaze that he would become distracted.

With a deep, bracing breath he continued. "My father gave it to my mother; she told me that true love follows this ring, through her marriage to my birth father and with me and my brothers." His eyes finally turned to hers as he sat up, prompting her to do the same, heart in his throat as he took her right hand in his, cradling it palm-up.

"In Riverdon I left you with 'nothing but a kiss on the hand,'" he quoted her self-deprecatingly; Snow choked on a laugh, hardly able to breathe for want of to see what he was going to do. "I'm not going to send you home with an engagement ring on your hand and let you face your father alone." His eyes gazed into hers piercingly. "But I'm also not going to leave you with just a kiss." He placed the ring in her palm and closed her fingers over it, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "This is my promise to you that I will be back to propose _properly_ and place this on your finger, which I never want it off of."

His princess' eyes were filled with tears, a bright smile on her face, unable to speak.

His thumbs caressed over her curled fingers. "Unless you want a different ring?"

"No!" she exclaimed, yanking her hand from his and cradling it protectively to her chest, as if afraid he'd try and take the ring from her. "I only want _this one_."

A wide grin split James' face, happy to hear Snow say that; he brushed a hand through her hair. "I'm glad."

A responding smile lit her face; she lowered the hand and uncurled her fist to look at the ring, fingers running over the band and jewel, examining all of the tiny nicks and how it was the slightest amount bent. She loved the ring all the more for these imperfections, they gave it character and history, each one holding a story, a memento of every woman who had worn it. She inwardly wondered if Queen Ruth might know any of those stories; Snow made a note to ask her the next time they saw each other.

"Hey, you two!"

They both looked up at Red's voice; she was striding toward them with Ella not far behind, shaking her head ruefully, and Liam trailing after them both, smirking.

"The point of tonight is to spend time with friends, not for you to hole up together." She propped a hand on her hip.

The couple rolled their eyes at their brazen friend.

"And you _don't _get to sneak off together early!" the brunette continued, glaring at them. "This isn't going to go that late and we don't need a repeat of last night," she finished low enough that only their group heard.

Snow buried her face in her hands, torn between laughing and blushing madly.

James cocked a sardonic eyebrow. "Yes, _mother, dear_."

"You might want to get Doc to check your eyes if you think I'm your mother," Red called casually over her shoulder.

Liam and Ella were doubled over with laughter; he hurriedly scrambled to catch up with Red as she passed them and casually draped an arm across her shoulders, whispering something in her ear.

James cast a sidelong look at Snow who was shaking with barely suppressed laughter beside him. "She's going to be the death of me, isn't she?"

She pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling at him. "She's going to be the death of everyone."

The prince rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, giving the princess a hand up; Snow, with nothing else to do with it, opted to put the ring on a finger. She had to consciously stop herself from slipping it on her left ring finger–which felt strangely natural to do–sliding it onto her right middle finger instead. She wanted James to be the one to put it on her left ring finger.

This done she reached out and threaded her fingers through those of the hand James had extended to her. Eyes on hers he lifted their joined hands and kissed the ring where it rested on her finger; the promise he had given her for the future bright in his eyes.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The evening was winding down and the musicians were playing what was likely the last song of the night. Ella sat off to the side watching Snow and Red dancing with their respective men, trying to quell the jealousy she felt. Honestly she was rather happy that they were heading home tomorrow because she'd finally be closer to her Thomas and would likely be able to see him soon.

_Wait, _her_ Thomas?_ a somewhat scandalized, more conservative part of her mind yelped. _Since when did she have the right to claim a _prince_ as _hers_?_ Ella decided to pointedly ignore that voice, instead remembering what Geppetto had told her. Maybe they hadn't said it in so many words, but they both felt it, and it was in all of their interactions and correspondences.

In his last letter he had asked that she let him know when she returned to Everland; subtly inquiring if a visit would be welcome soon thereafter. She had sent one back just before leaving that she expected him as soon as humanly possible after she returned. Goddess, she missed him so!

To try and distract herself from her lonely thoughts, Ella lent her hands to the clean-up that had been started by those not otherwise "occupied." Eventually the couples broke apart and the musicians put aside their instruments and pitched in as well. It didn't take too long before the leftover food had either been packed away or scattered for the animals, and the benches and tables hoisted into nearby wagons for transport back to town. Parents then lifted sleepy children into their arms, musicians slung their instruments across their backs and over their shoulders, and amorous couples sauntered off hand-in-hand.

Geppetto headed directly home, Pinocchio leaning heavily into his leg, more asleep than awake and likely soon to be carried the rest of the way home, and Jiminy perched on the woodworker's shoulder. James and Liam opted to escort the three women to their "cottage" before heading to Geppetto's. Once they arrived at Henry's house James pulled Snow aside, speaking with her softly, while Liam kept blocking Red from going inside, a roguish grin on his face, likely looking for a goodnight kiss. Ella averted her eyes from both couples and went through the door. Being the odd-woman-out really made things awkward.

She headed straight to her room, closing the door behind her; she was reaching behind her neck to begin undoing the fastenings on her dress when a soft cooing had her head snapping to the window. A dove sat on the sill, a small roll of parchment attached to its leg.

Changing into her nightgown momentarily forgotten, a grin spread across Ella's face and she moved to take the note from the bird. There were only five words on it.

_Are you coming home soon?_

Ella laughed out loud at the annoyed and desperate note that she knew must fill Thomas' voice with that single sentence.

She pulled out a small piece of paper and scribbled an equally short response.

_Two more days…_

She paused lifting her quill momentarily from the parchment, biting her lip as she debated writing the two words she felt so compelled to end with. After a moment she took a deep bracing breath and put nib to paper.

…_my love._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James couldn't sleep. His body expected a smaller form to be curled up to it, and his nose anticipated the mixture of flowers and chocolate and cinnamon to meet each breath he took, but all of that was absent and it felt all _wrong_. How had he grown so used to sleeping with Snow in his arms when they'd only shared a bed _once_? However that was, it was causing sleep to be elusive.

With a frustrated groan he furiously scrubbed his hands over his face and rose from his bed. He had pulled on clean breeches before going to bed so he just threw a fresh tunic on and shoved his feet into his boots. He as quietly as possible opened his door and closed it behind him, trying not to disturb the others in the house, and also not wanting to alert them to his restlessness. James kept his tread as soft as he could until he made it out of the building and began down one of the many paths; he tried to convince himself that he wasn't picking the one that lead to Henry's cabin on the off chance that he might see Snow, but it was too much of a lie for him to maintain, even with just himself.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow had spent about an hour tossing fruitlessly back and forth in bed, beating her pillow with her fist and laying back down before rolling over again, unsatisfied. Her pillow was too soft; it wasn't firm and smooth–_like James' chest_, a traitorous part of her mind taunted–she wrenched away from that thought–and…she mentally sighed, finally giving up trying to fool herself – as if there had really been any chance at that–and admitted the truth: There weren't strong arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and loved, even in her sleep. The sheets didn't even smell of him any more since she'd forced herself to wash them that day. Snow rolled over on her back, staring up at the ceiling, admitting to herself the truth: She was a woman missing her beloved…a lover she'd only slept with _once._ How the hell did _that _make sense?

She buried her face in her pillow, muffling the scream of frustration she gave before shoving herself out of bed. After lighting a couple of candles she snatched up the book she'd found in Henry's library and plopped sulkily down in the window seat. It was obvious that sleep wasn't forthcoming so she might as well get some reading in. She delved into the comedy of loves, mix-ups and meddling fairies.

All the while her heart and body ached for her Charming.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James was surprised to see the glow of a light coming from the otherwise dark cottage and allowed his feet to carry him closer. He wasn't surprised so much as heartened to see Snow's dark head through the open window, brows furrowed, focused on something in her lap. He came to a stop a couple of feet from the porch, staring up at her, watching her graceful hand as it tucked a stray lock behind her ear.

"Snow," he finally called, loud enough for her to hear, but softly enough not to alert anyone else in the house.

Her head came up and turned; when her eyes alighted on him a bright grin lit her face. "Charming," she greeted as loudly as she dared without waking the others. "One moment." She held up a finger as she scrambled from her seat and momentarily disappeared from sight.

James, hearing the lock on the door being unlatched, moved to the steps, planting a foot on the bottom rung, hand resting on the railing.

The door swung open. James had expected that Snow would have put on a dressing robe, but apparently she either decided not to or hadn't thought to. Her white nightgown with its scooping neckline, thin straps and near-translucent material left little to the imagination, her curves silhouetted by the candlelight through the cloth. He clenched his hand ruthlessly around the railing, forcing himself to stay where he was and _not_ run up there, scoop her into his arms and carry her over to the bed, not to leave for the rest of the night.

_He was wrong. Red wasn't going to be the end of him, _she _was!_

Snow stopped at the top of the stairs. "What are you doing here so late?"

Her obvious pleasure at seeing him kept him from even _thinking_ that it was a chastisement.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk." James nodded to her window. "What were you doing up?"

"Reading. I couldn't sleep either."

He smirked. "Shakespeare again?"

She grinned. "_Midsummer Night's Dream_."

A soft chuckle slipped from his lips. "You did say that you enjoyed comedies…"

"I do like my happy endings," she easily admitted with a shrug.

In the ensuing silence, James' gaze wandered over Snow, noticing that her nightgown revealed the numerous red marks on her shoulders and upper chest that he'd left–he felt ridiculously satisfied at the sight of those marks. Also there was a thin, delicate gold chain just barely visible against her skin in the pale moonlight that hadn't been there before; whatever hung from it disappeared under the neckline of her gown between her breasts. Against his better judgment he ascended a few steps and reached out to hook a finger beneath the chain at her collarbone–forcing his mind _not_ to think about how amazing her skin felt–and pulled the item into sight.

His mother's ring glowed softly in the dim light against the white material of her nightdress.

"I never wear rings."

James' gaze lifted to meet hers; she was biting her lip.

"I wanted to keep it with me," Snow continued her explanation, "this seemed the best way without it being too noticeable and raising too many questions."

His hand had remained suspended just centimeters from her skin, their eyes locked together. Without his permission the backs of his fingers closed the distance and skimmed from her collarbone, ghosting down her arm. She shivered at the caress, breath catching and swayed closer to him, eye-to-eye with him two steps below her. Her breath fanned across his lips.

_Gods, he wasn't leaving here tonight._

In one motion he curved his hand around the back of her neck, cleared the last two steps and slanted his mouth over hers.

Her hands gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling herself closer; she slipped her tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his teasingly, taunting him to reciprocate, which he did with a groan.

For once that noble voice at the back of his mind seemed to know it had lost before the fight had even begun and remained silent as James' hands eveloped her waist and lifted her. Snow's legs wrapped around his hips and arms locked around his shoulders, more than happy to let him carry her into her room and close the door behind them.

She had heard a number of women, especially among the nobility, refer to being with their husbands as the "obligations of the marriage bed." But as James' hands pushed her nightgown from her shoulders allowing it to puddle at her feet, mouth passionately mapping every centimeter of her skin, and she divested him of his own clothing with equal enthusiasm, hands and tongue tracing each muscle, Snow knew that _that_ didn't and _never would_ describe what happened between them in _their_ bed.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James' hand drew long, languid lines up and down her arm; Snow's fingers traced sleepy patterns across his chest.

"I got reamed out by your sister earlier."

Her hand stilled and head lifted slightly. "Red?"

"Umm hmm," he confirmed, letting his hand drift down to capture her now still one and lift it, letting their fingers dance and tangle together. "And Geppetto claimed I was making you my mistress."

She almost shot up, but his arm around her shoulders kept her from doing so as he continued.

"But I think he was just trying to get a rise out of me. See my reaction." His eyes continued to gaze into hers. "I told them that I would never ask such a thing of you and explained to them exactly what my intentions were for you. They were somewhat appeased by that."

With a groan Snow buried her face in his chest. "Why do people keep doing that? Acting as if I'm this helpless damsel or child who needs protecting?" Her head lifted to meet his gaze again, stubbornness fierce in her eyes. "I'm neither! I can take care of _myself_, for goddess' sake!"

His hand released hers to cup her jaw. "They love you, Snow. Dearly. Deeply. And I certainly can't blame them, or be angry with them for that. Or for them wanting to protect you."

She frowned opening her mouth to testily reiterate that she was entirely capable of taking care of herself, but James stilled her voice with a press of a finger to her lips.

"I know you can take care of yourself, you are _very_ capable." He tilted his head to the side, tapping the scar on his chin with a finger, smirking. "But don't you get protective of your loved ones?"

Her lips pursed, but she slowly nodded, reluctantly admitting that it was true.

His wide palms smoothed up and down her back. "Us choosing to share a bed before we're even engaged isn't considered right in most people's eyes, you know. And men," his arms tightened around her into protective bands at the thought of what he was about to say happening, "taking advantage of women isn't unheard of." James set his jaw at a furious angle.

A concerned frown furrowed Snow's brow; she reached up a hand and drew it softly along the clenched muscles of his jaw. "That thought angers you."

"No man should ever mistreat a woman," he said tightly.

Her head slowly shook from side to side. "No, it's more personal than that. You know a woman who was hurt like that?"

He glared up at the ceiling; Snow just waited silently for him to speak.

"Her name is Belle," James finally began. "Thomas, Liam and I have been friends with her most of our lives. She's like a sister to us. She has always loved books; she's the Seaborn Librarian. She is also very beautiful and has caught many eyes over the years."

The comment about Belle's beauty was said without a note of attraction, more as an observation. Snow was willing to admit to herself that this soothed any possible jealousy that might have pricked her over the comment.

"One of the men whose attention she caught was _Gaston_," he nearly snarled the name, "a brute that loved himself, hunting, beer and female company–in that order–and was far too aware of his own looks and ego. He was determined to have Belle, but she rebuffed him at every turn." James paused in his narrative, trying to rein in his fury at the memories. "Belle was working at a small book shop in town; she'd ended up staying later than usual shelving a new delivery. Gaston snuck in through the backdoor and attacked her…tried to _rape_ her."

Snow's eyes slid shut and she pressed a hand to her mouth. A low, "Oh, goddess," slipped from her lips.

"Thomas, Liam and I walked in before he could commit the act; we'd stopped by earlier in the day and when she told us how late she was staying we insisted on coming back and walking her home." His arms tightened convulsively around his beloved. "Gods, I've never wanted to murder someone before but in that moment, goddess help me, _I wanted to_. As it was I broke his jaw and a few bones in my hand."

He held up said appendage; Snow looked at it, she had noticed before that a few of his fingers had been broken and reset along with the knuckles being more scarred than those of his other hand. She caught his hand in both of hers and stroked her thumbs over the back of it.

"Liam dragged the monster to the dungeon, Belle wasn't comfortable with letting any men touch her, but she didn't want to be left alone. Thomas went to the nearby midwife for her help, I stayed with Belle. I talked to her the whole time; I don't even remember what I said, I don't even know if it did any good. I had just never been so _angry_, never felt such _hate_." Those vivid blue eyes turned to Snow's. "Belle is one of the strongest women I've ever known–you, Red and Ella would like her–but seeing her curled up in that corner looking so _broken_, shaking so violently…"

A tear trickled from Snow's eye. "I'm sorry," she whispered, bringing his hand to her lips and pressing kisses to it.

He kissed her forehead, holding her closer still. "After that I recommended her to become the next librarian. The old one was looking to retire and agreed to take her on as his apprentice. As the kingdom's librarian she was entitled to living in the castle; it took a little convincing but after we assured her that we wanted her father to come as well she accepted." His lips pressed into a thin line. "She's come to feel safe in the castle and secludes herself away in the library a lot, both in Seaborn and in Riverdon. Belle's still afraid to go out into town alone. It's painful to see such a vibrant, independent person struggling so much with such crippling fear as she does."

"Has she made any progress?" She continued to run her fingers over the back of his hand.

"Slow." James grimaced. "Most of the time she's more frustrated by her fear than we are. But she has been fighting tooth and nail to get back to the person she was."

Snow's eyes traced his features. "She's very brave. I have known women who were hurt by men like Belle was and weren't able to overcome it. It takes a great deal of strength and courage to do so." A small smile curled her lips. "I can't wait to meet her."

His gaze finally met hers and for the first time since he first mentioned the topic his expression softened and he smiled. "You'll like each other."

"I _already_ like her," she countered, grinning.

He grinned crookedly back at her, dipping his head down to slide his lips across hers in a soft kiss, hand stroking her hair. "You need to sleep," he told her. "You have a long ride home in the morning."

"Hmm," Snow reluctantly acknowledged, settling her head back on his chest, ear over his heart to listen to the steady thump of it, allowing the sound to lull her to sleep. "I love you, Charming."

Cheek pressed to the top of her head, James smiled. "I love you too, Princess."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow's lips pressing small, teasing kisses across his chest and running her tongue over his pulse point drew James into the waking world. A grin creased his face at the pleasurable wake up call. Her body lay atop his, fingers skimming across his chest and abdomen, seeming like they were going lower but not. He caught her teasing hands in his and rolled her under him, blue eyes finally opening to see her impish smile.

"You're being a tease, Princess."

She grinned cheekily at him, slipping her hands from his grip to trail up his chest. "I'm only a tease if I don't fulfill my promises, Charming." Her emerald gaze sparkled, arms wrapping around his neck to pull his head down to hers. "And I fully intend," her lips pressed into his neck, "to keep mine."

James curled his hand around her neck, using his thumb to tilt her chin up and settled his mouth over hers. "We stay in bed much longer," he murmured as he slid his lips across her cheek, "Red and Ella will know that I've been here all night."

Her fingers splayed across his shoulders, drawing him even closer. "I don't care."

With the threat of her immanent departure they made love slowly, lingering over each other, trying to burn into their memories every inch of each other, the textures of their skin and hair, the taste and feel of their kiss, the feeling of their bodies pressing together, every inch touching. Anything they could cling to for however long they were forced to be apart.

James paused in kissing his way down her chest when his lips encountered the ring; he lifted the hand he'd been using to brace himself on the mattress, and placed his palm over the gold circle. Snow's head had lifted when she felt his mouth leave her skin and she watched his actions; her hands came up to cradle his face between them, drawing his aching gaze up to meet her matching one.

"Promise me we'll see each other soon," she begged.

A wry smile quirked his lips. "Well, since Red has only given me a month to get this ring on your finger I think that I can safely promise that…" Any teasing fled his face and a breathtaking tenderness filled his eyes, his hand skimming up her arm to slide his fingers between hers. "And even without her insistence, nothing could keep me away from you for long."

Snow grinned, her thumb tracing the scar on his chin. "I'll hold you to that."

He smirked. "See that you do," James murmured before pushing himself up to couple his lips to hers, hands spanning her ribcage, prompting her to arch into him.

One of Snow's arms wrapped around his shoulders; her other hand slid from his cheek down to rest against his heart. Her mouth trailed across his cheek to his jaw. "James," she sighed against his skin as he dragged his fingers down her sides to her hips, firming his grip there and pinning them to the mattress.

When Snow wrapped her legs around his, gasping as she arched to meet him, he buried his face in her neck, moaning. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, holding on as if the other were life itself.

For a while after they lay tangled together on the bed, neither really wanting to move, and _definitely_ not wanting to let each other go.

Sunlight was flooding the room and there were the faintest sounds of clattering of dishes and the creaks of floorboards, alerting them to the fact that the other occupants of the house were awake. They couldn't ignore the rest of the world any longer, much to their dismay.

Snow and James didn't bother to hide from Ella and Red the fact that they were both coming from the princess' bedroom, exiting it hand in hand.

The blonde pretended not to notice, just casting them both a bright smile as she went about pouring juice in each of the glasses on the table.

The fiery brunette on the other hand narrowed her eyes at them and looked like she wanted to say something but instead pressed her lips together and turned back to the stove where she was cooking. "Breakfast is almost ready. And the others should be here shortly."

The couple exchanged amused glances.

"Do you need any more wood for the stove?" James inquired.

Red didn't look up but responded fairly politely, "A couple of logs would be helpful."

The prince rolled his eyes, heading toward the door outside. "I'll get those."

Snow clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm going to strip my bed, would you like me to do both of yours as well?"

"You don't have to, Snow," Ella protested.

The princess was already shaking her head. "You're making breakfast; it's the least I can do to help." She turned back to the door to the bedrooms.

"Sleep well last night?"

Emerald eyes cast heavenward at the other dark-haired woman's wry comment and turned back toward her. "Yes, actually." She faced the door again adding offhandedly, "Especially when we weren't awoken in the middle of the night by _someone_ shrieking at us."

"Really? I personally can't imagine too much sleeping got done."

"Oh, I found it _quite_ restful."

Ella clanked a plate down on the table exasperatedly. "Can we _not_ discuss, even in oblique terms, what you and James were doing last night?"

Red cocked an eyebrow. "Someone's frustrated…"

The blonde gritted her teeth.

Snow waved a hand over her shoulder at Red. "Ask Miss Nosey over there. I'm quite happy to not talk about mine and James' relationship. I'll be back in a few minutes," she called as she disappeared into the hall.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Well, _someone_ was up early."

James looked up from where he'd just split a log at his general's snarky tone, eyebrow raised.

Liam smirked, continuing once he stood close enough to his prince not to be overheard by the three following just behind him, "Or should I say _late_?"

"You know," James commented as he lifted the requested logs into his arms, "I'm seriously wondering if you and Red spending time together is really a good thing." He straightened to eye Liam wryly.

The general grinned broadly. "What are you talking about? It's a _great_ thing."

The prince snorted as he turned to greet Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy; the group then went into the house.

James glanced around the kitchen as he set the logs down beside the stove. "Where's Snow?"

"She decided to go skinny-dipping in the sea," Red promptly informed him.

The jaws of the three men hit the floor.

"Red!" Ella yelped, drawing their attention to her. She rolled her eyes before turning to James. "She's stripping the linens from the beds."

James turned a glare on Red, who ignored him entirely in favor of tilting her head to allow Liam to kiss her cheek, but denying him a kiss on the lips.

The prince shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to give her a hand with that."

"Sure you are," the brunette sarcastically called after him.

He could hear Pinocchio ask Geppetto what "skinny-dipping" was as he headed down the hall. Glancing into Red and Ella's rooms he saw that their beds were already bare so he went straight to Snow's.

She had one of the pillowcases lifted to her nose, but at his footsteps turned her head to look at him.

A half-smile quirked his lips, he moved toward her. "What were you doing?"

She flushed, lowering the pillowcase, nervously folding it over her hands. "Nothing."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, hands catching hers, still holding the cloth, against her stomach. James pressed his lips to her temple. "It didn't look like nothing."

"It's just–" Snow broke off.

James waited the beat of silence that she took to gather her thoughts.

With a deep breath, she released the pillowcase and turned in his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. "They smell like you," she murmured against his skin. "And…I want to hold onto what it is like to have that surrounding me."

His nose was pressed in her hair, her sweet scent permeating each breath he took. "So do I," he murmured. "I'm going to miss you so much."

Her arms tightened around him. "I'm going to miss you too."

James stroked his hands up and down her back. "I wish I hadn't made such a mess of things that us being apart is necessary."

She tilted her head back to look up at him; her hand rose to rest against his cheek. "You were just trying to do what you believed was the right and honorable thing, Charming." A smile quirked her mouth. "Like you always do."

A chuckle slipped from his lips. "Well," he bent his head, rubbing his nose against hers, "I haven't exactly been doing the 'honorable thing' with you the past few nights, at least not according to Red."

She grinned, emerald eyes dancing. "I'm not complaining," she teased.

"Hmm," he confirmed amusedly, pressing his lips to hers.

They just stood wrapped around each other, enjoying the kiss for several moments before Snow finally pulled back.

"I have to finish with the linens," she told him.

"I'll give you a hand." He pecked her mouth once more before they disentangled themselves and set about removing the sheets.

After a few moments James glanced at her. "You know," he began in a humor-filled tone, "when I asked Red where you were she had quite the rejoinder."

His princess looked at him, a wryly amused expression on her face. "Really, and what did my oh-so-witty friend have to say?"

He placed the sheet in the pile with the others. "That you were skinny-dipping."

She cast her eyes to the side thoughtfully. "That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea."

His head snapped to look at her, movements stilling.

At his shocked expression she burst into laughter. "I'm kidding!" But then she looked at him more closely and cocked an eyebrow. "Or would that be something you're interested in?" Her eyes sparkled teasingly.

Her prince rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her to stand facing him between himself and the footboard of the bed. "In broad daylight where anyone can see you, _no_." James braced his hands on the railing of the board on either side of her. "I have a strong aversion to other men seeing you unclothed," he informed her frankly.

Snow stared at where her fingers were idly playing with one of the toggles on his shirt. "And what if it was just the two of us?" Her eyes coyly lifted to his bright blue ones. "Somewhere secluded…maybe even at night?" She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

He grinned. "That…" his hands moved to circle her waist, "_that_ I would be interested in."

"Well," her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, "then maybe we should see if Henry would let us borrow this place from time-to-time."

"Hmm." He lowered his head to hers. "We should _definitely_ do that." He kissed her sweetly, lovingly.

"Hey, you two, breakfast is ready!"

They pulled back, rolling their eyes at Red's shout from the kitchen.

"We'll be there in a moment!" Snow called back. She pulled James over with her to help pick up the bundles of linens.

They dropped the sheets in a large basket outside the front door; a local washwoman was going to pick them up that afternoon. The couple then went back inside and headed toward the kitchen, Snow threading her hand through his elbow.

"You know," she gazed up at James, biting her lip, "I was also thinking that we could ask Henry if we can borrow this place for not just ourselves."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Maybe bring our children here," she continued softly. "A place for us to take them where they don't have to always be princes and princesses…"

His other hand came up to tangle with hers, thumb stroking over her fingers. "I like that idea…a lot."

"What's taking you two so long?" Liam shouted.

"Two of a kind," James muttered while Snow laughed quietly.

"Coming!" they both called to their friends.

Snow let her hands slide down from his elbow until their palms kissed and fingers intertwined.

Something her mother used to say, one of the few things that was still so vivid in her memory about her mother, drifted through the princess' mind: _"Remember, Snow, hope is a singularly persistent flower, e're blooming…even in the most desperate of times."_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaborn_

_Two days later…_

King George was in a foul mood. Had been since his elder son had taken off. Inwardly he was worried for the young man he'd adopted, but he refused to let it show.

Ruth knew. She always did, but she never said anything.

They weren't in love with each other; never had been. Affection had grown over time between them. Respect had been inherent from the beginning of their relationship. They understood each other on an unspoken level, read each other's moods with the ease that comes with a long marriage. But there were boundaries that they never crossed with each other. Boundaries that hadn't existed with their first spouses, but that had been another life for both of them.

So the queen sat going over the kitchen ledger, eyes focused on the numbers and not on the king's fuming form bent over his desk.

"Agrabah raised the tax on fish another _four_ shillings!" George all but snarled. "How is this to be born?"

"Well, perhaps if we didn't tax a fortune on _their_ primary export they wouldn't tax _ours_ so heavily."

Both monarchs went dead still at the familiar, dry tone. A voice they hadn't heard in weeks. They looked up.

"_James_!" Ruth gasped at the sight of her son standing in the doorway, hands clasped loosely behind his back; the book fell from her fingers to thump loudly on the floor.

"Mother," James inclined his head, affection and apology in his eyes. He turned to the king. "Father," he bowed, tone respectful, there had never been much affection between them but the near-hostility from before he left was gone.

"So, you finally decided to come home?" George finally managed to say gruffly after he recovered enough from the shock of seeing his son again. He turned nonchalantly back to the paperwork on his desk.

The prince strode into the room.

_Snow stared up at him with watery eyes, but stubbornly held back the tears. "I love you, Charming," she whispered, pressing her lips to his one last time before having to mount Aravis and return to Everland. She pulled quickly and abruptly away and made a dash for the horse._

_James caught her arm and pulled her back, cupping her face between his palms he kissed her again. Her hands gripped the collar of his tunic. After indulging themselves for a few moments–though not _near _long enough for them–their lips parted and they pressed their foreheads together._

"_I'll see you in a few weeks," he promised. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "I love you, Snow."_

James pulled himself from the bittersweet memory of parting with Snow in Lochdubh. "It was time." He came to a stop in front of his father's desk.

"Well, there is plenty of work to do," the king told him brusquely.

Ruth glanced toward the door to find her younger son, arms crossed, smirking; his eyes turned to meet hers with a grin.

The mother let out a quiet sigh of relief. Her family was whole again.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas watched his newly-returned brother discussing taxes with their father as if the prince hadn't been gone for two weeks. The king wasn't one to talk about matters involving family and emotions, and James was content to leave well enough alone.

As he turned and headed down the hall, the younger prince stuck his hand in his pocket, fingers closing over the note there. A smile curled his lips as he remembered how his Ella had addressed him as "my love." He was leaving for Riverdon in the morning; his mother wouldn't be happy about her family being separated once again so soon, but she'd accept it. And as much as Thomas loved his mother he'd been away from Ella too long and desperately needed to see her.

"She should be home by now."

Thomas turned at Liam's voice, the general was sauntering along just behind him. The prince stopped and waited for his friend to catch up and they continued walking together.

"So, you know about Ella," the prince commented.

"She was missing you something fierce," Liam assured him. "She should be back in Everland by now and I know she wants to see you as soon as possible."

"I let my parents know a few days ago that I'd be leaving tomorrow for Riverdon." They reached the end of the hall which led to a balcony and leaned against the railing, staring out over the water. "I'll be heading to Everbrook to see Ella in a couple of days."

The general eyed his friend. "Have you told your parents about her yet?"

Thomas shook his head. "Mother will be happy for me, but I'm not looking forward to my father's reaction." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Father's opinion would be that I should marry a noblewoman or someone at least of wealth."

A smirk spread across the general's face. "But that's not your plan."

The prince looked at Liam with a grin. "Not in the least."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

"Enjoy your solstice?"

Snow's back went ram-rod straight, body tensing. She was never sure of what to expect with her stepmother. Most of the time they managed to get along all right, but frequently they ended up at each other's throats. It was only when it came to her father that they were really united in purpose, wanting to protect and take care of him as much as possible.

She slowly turned to face Regina. "It was wonderful." She loosely clasped her hands in front of her. "I hadn't seen my friends from Lochdubh in a long time. It was nice to have the chance to catch up with them, especially Geppetto."

The queen was just as statuesque as ever, eyes distant as she looked her stepdaughter up and down. "It's rather childish, abruptly running off for a holiday."

Snow restrained the scathing retort that was hanging on her lips, knowing that if she gave in it would just lead to a blow-up argument and that wasn't something her father needed to walk in on. She took a deep cleansing breath. "Someday I'll have to take over ruling and I won't have much time to visit my friends. I wanted to take the opportunity to do so while I still had that freedom."

Regina opened her mouth.

"Snow!"

Both women turned at Leopold's delighted tone, schooling their features into relatively pleasant expressions.

"Father." The princess moved to her father and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"Did you have a good time?"

"_I thought that you were going to propose to me."_

"_I was."_

"_Then why didn't you?"_

"_I went to your father to ask his permission, his blessing… He refused."_

She felt a flash of anger at her father for the agony she'd gone through.

"…_he was just trying to protect you."_

The memory of James' hands worshipfully tracing over every inch of her skin, his lips pressing to hers with passion and devotion, his voice telling her over and over that he loved her washed over Snow, drowning out the anger.

A bright smile spread across her expression. "It was wonderful."

"And how was Geppetto?"

"Great." Her eyes sparkled happily. "He just adopted a little boy named Pinocchio. I haven't seen him so happy since Alessandra passed."

Delight lit her father's face. "I'm glad to hear that." He turned to Regina. "Isn't that wonderful, my dear?"

The queen smiled serenely. "Yes, it is."

"Well, the traveler has returned!"

"Henry!" Snow escaped the slightly awkward moment and hurried over to embrace her surrogate grandfather.

His arms hugged her tightly in return. "It's wonderful to have you home again, Snow."

The princess pulled back to look him in the eyes, still clasping his hands. "It's wonderful to be back." Her fingers tightened around his. "_Thank you_," she told him meaningfully.

He gently tugged her forward to press a kiss to her forehead, when he pulled back his gaze met hers with understanding. "You're _most_ welcome, my dear."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, what do you think? Did you like it, even though we had to leave Lochdubh? All the sarcasm and snark in the chapter had me quite entertained while I was writing. XD Did you guys like that James gave Snow the ring as a promise? Charming telling her about Belle actually wasn't originally planned… O.O I kinda got it to that point and then suddenly the characters took over… XD Anywho, I have a pretty good idea as to what's going to happen in the next chapter and there SHOULD be Ella/Thomas…as long as the characters don't start changing their minds again… XD James and Snow won't be separated for too long…pending the character's changing things on me of course… XD I hope that you liked the chapter! :-D Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think! :-} Brownie points to those who get what the chapter title references. ;-}


	16. Chapter 14: There and Back Again

Helooooooooooo my lovely readers! :-D Thank you SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much for the reviews, tweets, DM's, PM's, alters, faves, encouragement and comments! :-D Again I'm sorry about the chapters slowing down, I had a couple weeks of vacation last month and worked on this quite a bit, but I was also doing other things including going up to Steveston for one day and watching filming of season 2! XD It was REALLY fun and interesting to see, I saw Josh Dallas and Sebastian Stan both filming and Raphael Sbarge on set, the town itself was in an…_interesting_ state… XD Anywho. I really hope that you enjoy this chapter! :-D

THANK YOU, **Sassy18**! Your comments, edits and suggestions help SO MUCH and keep me laughing and grinning! And thank you VERY much for pointing out that one little slip! XD

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 14: There and Back Again**

Snow was sitting with Granny in the Inn's kitchen going over a few recipes she'd recommended for the fall equinox. The celebration was still three months away, but Regina was already insisting on beginning the preparations now. Though Snow couldn't exactly argue with her reasoning to start so soon since the fall equinox was their second largest celebration, surpassed only by the spring festival.

"What do you think," Snow rubbed her fingers tiredly across her forehead, glancing at her surrogate grandmother, "boar or deer?"

Granny rifled through a few of the pages on the table before her. "I'd go with the deer, but boar would certainly be good." Without looking, she reached over and grabbed the princess' hand. "Stop playing with that ring, Snow, you'll break the chain."

The dark-haired young woman's eyes went to where Granny was grasping her hand with surprise. Without realizing it she'd pulled out James' ring and begun fiddling with it absentmindedly. Snow blushed, tucking the ring back into place under the higher-than-usual neckline of her dress. "Sorry, Granny."

"Hmm," the older woman acknowledged wryly. "So when exactly is that young man of yours going to get back here and put that ring on your finger properly?"

The princess' mouth fell open. "How did you–?"

Granny pulled out one of the recipes from the stack and studied it intently. "Your clothing choices have been more concealing than usual for the summer, along with wearing your hair down all the time when that thick mane _has_ to be hot, and you're wearing a ring that you didn't have before, but it's on a chain around your neck and not on your finger..._yet_…" She cast a dry look at her surrogate granddaughter. "Do I really need to spell this out any further for you? I'm old, not blind."

Snow gave her a sheepish smile, fingers rubbing the still visible mark behind her ear, having unconsciously gone there at the mention of her change in clothing and hairstyle habits. "Are you upset with me?"

The proprietress rolled her eyes. "Goodness, child, I'm not your mother! And we _all_ know I'm no saint!"

The princess choked on a laugh.

"I _know _that that boy is head over heels in love with you, as you are with him." Granny inclined her head to indicate the ring around Snow's neck. "And obviously the two of you are planning on marrying." She lifted a pencil to make a note on the recipe. "If the pair of you have chosen to share a bed before marriage, perhaps it isn't the wisest choice, but that's _your_ choice and _your_ business, not mine. So long as it was done in love and you plan on making those promises to each other sooner rather than later."

Snow had pulled out the ring again and was twisting it around her forefinger. "We _are_," she promised. "We love each other more than anything and we _are_ going to get married. There are just things we both have to straighten out first."

A single grey eyebrow rose. "Well, don't spend your lives trying to 'straighten things out.' Sometimes you just have to go ahead and act, because things certainly will never be perfect."

A warm grin spread across the princess' face; she stood up, took the two steps to Granny's side and pressed a kiss to the woman's cheek. "We won't," she assured her; her smile became amused. "Besides, Red has only given him a month to propose properly before she takes matters into her own hands."

Granny's eyebrows shot up.

Snow laughed at the nearly horrified expression on her surrogate grandmother's face before she pecked her cheek again and glided off to the stove. "I'll make us some tea."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

Two days back in Seaborn castle and not only was James desperately missing Snow, but he desperately wanted to unleash the long tirade on his father that he'd been holding back. Gods, he'd forgotten how frustrating the man could be! And Thomas wasn't around to help smooth things between the two of them, not that James could blame his younger brother for leaving, ostensibly to handle a few things in Riverdon, but in reality taking the time to visit Ella and continue their courtship.

"Well, don't you just look like a ray of sunshine?"

James' stalking stride paused, turning to face Phillip. He was torn between being happy at seeing his friend and exasperation at what he knew was going to be a conversation that would try his patience.

Phillip smirked at his expression, reading him all too well. "So, how was Lochdubh?"

The sandy-haired prince rolled his eyes, continuing his brisk way down the hall to the training fields. "Don't you have other places to be and things to do?"

His friend easily kept pace with him, his posture casual. "None so nearly as entertaining as bugging you. And besides my parents wanted me to come here and handle negotiating with you and your father a few alterations to our trade agreement." The dark-haired prince eyed James' face. "Nice beard, by the way. Thought you hated them."

"Trying something new," he informed him shortly. He'd grown the facial hair to help hide the love bites Snow had left along his jaw until they cleared up.

A single dark eyebrow rose. "What has you in such a bad mood? You're a step away from biting my head off."

James spun on his friend, opening his mouth to snarl at him, but at Philip's level look he snapped his jaw shut, hanging his head. "I'm sorry, Phillip. I haven't been sleeping well the last few days." _Since Snow had left._

"Eh." The other prince shrugged his apology off. "Thomas and Liam warned me you were in a mood."

That earned him a droll look from his fair-haired friend. "And you sought me out anyway. You get far too much enjoyment out of yanking my chain."

"That," Phillip easily admitted, "and I figured someone needed to hang around to keep you from saying or doing something you'd _really _regret with Thomas not here to do so."

James chose not to comment on that, just continued walking.

"So," his friend continued lightly, "when are you going to be leaving to visit a certain _snowy_ princess?"

"When are you going to actually go meet your betrothed?" the sandy-haired prince countered instantly.

The teasing smirk fell off of Phillip's face at that.

His friend gave him a pointed look that clearly conveyed for him to stop poking his nose in James' business or he'd start turning it on him.

They continued down the hall in silence.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas' head was bent over the paperwork spread across his desk; he was trying to get it all done as quickly as possible so he could leave in two days' time for Everland to visit Ella. King Leopold had graciously once again extended accommodations for his stay, even though it was such short notice. Thomas could hardly contain his excitement over seeing the woman he loved again.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty."

He looked up to see his butler in the doorway. "Yes, Victor?"

The older man strode up to the desk, posture showing deference to his monarch, while still carrying the pride he felt in his station. "This came by messenger just a moment ago." He held out a sealed letter.

Thomas accepted it, a little surprised at the seal in the wax, having only received a missive with it once before. He broke the scarlet wax, eyes sweeping quickly over the elegant script. "Victor, King Gaspard is passing through and has requested to stay here a night." He handed the message back to his butler. "Please see to it that accommodations are readied for himself and his party, and send the messenger back to let him know we'd be more than happy to host him."

Victor bowed. "Immediately, Your Majesty." He disappeared less than a second later.

The young soon-to-be king rubbed a hand over his forehead, feeling a bit tired and exceedingly grateful for his decision to hire Victor. The man was intelligent, efficient and, along with his housekeeper, Mrs. Wells, had gotten the palace running in near-perfect order in under a year. Between the two of them they found, interviewed and recommended to Thomas other hires for the staff; soon thereafter Thomas more or less informed them that he trusted their judgment and to just bring the contracts to him to sign once they'd decided on a candidate.

His blue eyes scanned the room around him; he was terrified about his quickly approaching coronation, but part of him also yearned for it to come. He now understood what James had tried for so long to explain to him, how he'd never wanted the power of being king, but at the same time he enjoyed the chance to help the people, to improve things, to be able to hear his people's needs or desires and then do something about them.

Thomas' gaze settled on a second desk and chair that had been pushed into a corner. Victor had had it quietly placed in here after Thomas' stay in the spring, when he'd met Ella. The prince hadn't asked for it, but it had been in his mind; when he'd seen the desk sitting unobtrusively in the corner, he'd turned to Victor and asked about it. The butler had simply stated that he thought it might be needed in the not too distant future.

He ran his eyes over the delicate carvings in the pale wood, fashioned by Geppetto like his own, though it was much more feminine in appearance. A vision of Ella's golden head bent over some ledgers or a trade agreement they were trying to decipher together danced tantalizingly through his mind. The desk would need to be moved to a more central spot in the room, perhaps they'd push their desks side by side so that they could more easily work together, he mused.

The prince shook his head to clear the image; he was getting too far ahead of himself. He was trying to court Ella properly, along with giving her the time she had quietly alluded to needing. She'd made her feelings for him clear but also indicated a desire to regain her strength, independence and self-worth that had been trampled upon for so many years by her stepmother and sisters. He'd let her know he understood and was willing to wait until she was ready. As it was, even though the waiting killed Thomas, he was enjoying seeing the woman he loved growing in confidence, seeing her really coming into her own. It soothed an ache that had resided in his chest since he first saw Ella so meek, quiet and nervous around him and others.

He hated seeing anyone so trampled by life, but he'd never felt it as strongly as he did with her; the prince still couldn't explain the depth of his emotions so soon after meeting her, and by the time he'd actually thought to notice the anomaly he was too much in love with her to look back.

Thomas picked up his quill again, turning his attention back to the correspondence he'd been working on; he needed to finish it before King Gaspard arrived, though the desk in the corner remained in his mind, as it always did when he was in this room. Yes, a queen's desk would be quite necessary, and hopefully it would have its occupant before too long…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Belle's brisk stride carried her through the halls from the library to the entranceway, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of King Gaspard arriving. She wouldn't dare to actually greet him there, it was entirely against decorum, but she was hoping to at least see him again. Her thoughts of late had often centered around him, remembering his intelligence, kindness, how he was able to converse on any subject she'd brought up and could keep up with her own rapid-moving mind without trouble. He'd read so many of the same books she had, and they were still able to recommend fascinating new books to each other.

Finally the young librarian reached the large entrance hall but remained in the shadows of the small servants' corridor off to the side, watching for the young king's tall form to come through the double doors. Footmen stood at the ready to carry the luggage up to the visiting monarch's quarters.

Then he was stepping through the door and Belle's heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her chest.

Gaspard was conversing easily with Thomas, the pair striding along together through the hall.

The young librarian hugged the book she was carrying to her chest like a child's security blanket, not a far off the mark comparison she inwardly acknowledged. Books had always been her comfort, while other children had stuffed animals and blankets she found comfort in books, carrying at least one at all times. She wondered if Gaspard thought of her at all since the last time they saw each other, if he would be interested in talking again, if he remembered his promise to invite her to Rosewood to see his library…

Her heart stilled in her chest when his blue eyes turned right to her, locking on her own. She knew that she hadn't made a sound nor moved, but he'd known she was there. A smile curved his lips and he nodded to her. Belle's cheeks were _very_ warm, but she was smiling quite happily in return and curtsied to him from her spot.

He continued to talk with Thomas, all the while his gaze stayed on her until he would have had to turn his head to see her, which would have been exceedingly rude to his host.

Belle bit her lip, reluctantly returning to her haven, hope swelling in her heart.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Gaspard had been journeying home from attending the solstice celebration in Seaborn and a couple days of talks in Agrabah, which had ended blessedly well, considering how tumultuous his relationship sometimes was with Sultan. In attending the solstice in Seaborn he'd hoped to see Belle again, but hadn't been able to locate her during his stay. When he asked Thomas explained that she was _very_ uncomfortable in the castle when it was crowded with guests, so he'd arranged for her and her father to go and stay at a small seaside cottage for the duration of the celebration. After the solstice Gaspard had continued on to Agrabah; when he completed his business there and was on his way home he heard that Thomas was in residence in Riverdon so he decided to take the chance and see if Belle was possibly there as well.

And there she indeed was.

A smile lifted his lips as he made his slow way to the library. Even after such a brief acquaintance as they'd had he'd missed her over the past few weeks. Her soft voice, warm smile, the eyebrow that would quirk in a teasing way but made an appearance far too rarely, her quick intellect that matched his. And he sincerely hoped that she would agree to the request he was about to make.

She immediately turned upon his entrance from where she was shelving books, her lovely brown eyes lighting up as they met his blue ones. "King Gaspard," Belle greeted him a little breathlessly. She dropped into a curtsey.

"Please," the king held his hand up, "that's not necessary." It truly bothered him to have such formality between them. "Certainly not when it is just the two of us. In fact," he took a few halting steps closer to her, "I would welcome you calling me by my name, Mistress Belle."

She gazed at him watchfully, biting her lip while pink bloomed across her cheeks. "Belle. Just Belle."

"Belle." Her name slipped from his lips easily, naturally, sweeter than _lacrimae lunaris_ honey on his tongue.

Her breath softly caught at the way he said her name, heart racing in her chest; she inhaled deeply to steady herself somewhat. "Gaspard."

His heart skipped a beat at finally hearing his name on her lips, it sounded so right, as if she'd said it hundreds of times before. He loved the way she said his name.

Gaspard tried to contain his need to fidget, but found himself twisting his cane back and forth. "I was hoping to see you in Seaborn for the solstice, but Thomas said that you were staying in a cottage with your father."

She nodded. "A village not too far from Lochdubh. I am not…fond of being around a lot of people and I enjoy the quiet time away from the palace with Papa. But I do regret not seeing you." Her smile was sweet, curling through him warmly and lifting his heart.

"I actually have a request to ask."

Her head tilted to the side. "What is it?"

His thumb rubbed over the handle of his cane. "Thomas informed me that he would be going to Everland the day after tomorrow for a few days and I was hoping that you would go as well, and during that stay if you might come to Rosewood for a day or two."

Belle's heart beat double-time, she tried to control the wide grin that wanted to split her face; her smile still became even wider than it was. "I would love that." A finger of unease managed to still run down her spine, even through the comfort she felt with him. "Though…perhaps it would be…best if…"

Gaspard apprehended what she meant. "I have invited Thomas to come as well and I'm hoping that Snow and perhaps a few other friends will make the trip too."

Relief washed away the touch of disquiet; she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, a need to tease him a little rose in her, a daring she hadn't felt with anyone outside her small circle of friends in far too long. "Just so long as you promise me the chance to poke around your library."

He grinned at her broadly. "I'm actually rather inclined to let you raid any books from it you'd like."

Brown eyes sparkled at him amusedly. "A dangerous promise to someone who loves books as much as I do."

Gaspard smirked. "I'm willing to take that chance."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Her legs were so unsteady under her; she braced her weight against the wall as she made her way down the corridor. Bodies littered the floor, a few dressed in black, but most of them in the silver and white of their knights; her heart ached for the families who lost loved ones. And yet Snow couldn't help the relief that swept through her each time she looked upon one of the fallen and it wasn't her Charming._

_She clutched her abdomen, her body so sore and weak after having given birth only a few minutes ago, and knew she really shouldn't be out of bed. If the world were sane she'd still be lying in bed, her beautiful Emma in her arms, her husband lying beside her, his arms wrapped around both of them; rejoicing together in their daughter's birth. But the world wasn't sane or fair. The curse was coming and Snow had to find her husband, she wanted to be with him when the curse arrived, she needed to know that Emma had gotten away and was safe._

_Finally she reached the door of the nursery; two of their knights lay on the floor outside it along with a couple of black knights not too far from them. She turned her head to look inside what was supposed to be their little girl's room. It took a couple of heartbeats for her to really absorb what she was seeing._

_Charming, his white shirt stained crimson, lying on the floor oh-so-still, in a growing pool of his own blood._

"_No." The word slipped past her lips without her really realizing it. Then Snow was saying it over and over as she staggered and stumbled to her love's side, crawling the last few feet when her weakened body gave out. Her hands ran over his unmoving form, shaking him slightly, part of her believing that he had to only be sleeping, unable to accept that she would never see his blue eyes look upon her with love and adoration, never see them light up as they had done when she told him that she was pregnant._

_Snow clasped his face between her palms, gazing down at his beloved, familiar features. "Please, please come back to me," she begged him. She'd given up their child to save her; she couldn't lose her husband as well! His skin was so cool to the touch…_

Snow gasped, shooting bolt upright in bed, hand clutching James' ring to her chest. Her eyes flew around the room in alarm; her other hand went to the opposite side of the bed, finding no one, which sent her spiraling even more toward panic. Her hand then flew to her stomach; flat, no indication of pregnancy, not even the slight rounding to hint a recent birth. She covered her face with her hands, tears still streaming down her cheeks behind them, her mind whirling, unable to fully reconcile all of the residual emotions from the dream–which like all the ones she'd had involving Charming since meeting him felt all too real–and what her mind was telling her was reality.

The last few days since she'd left Lochdubh and last saw James she'd hardly slept at all and when she did it wasn't particularly restful sleep, but this nightmare…this was new and terrifying. She needed Charming. She needed him here right _now_. She needed to have him in her arms, in front of her where she could touch him, feel his warm skin and reassuring heartbeat and _know_ that he was alive and well. A logical corner of her mind quietly reminded her that he was in Seaborn and couldn't be there at the drop of a hat.

_But I need him _here_!_ the less rational side of her mind railed.

Snow took a deep breath, she needed to be logical, rational and– Her heart was having none of it, the dream was still too close, too fresh and felt _far_ too real. The princess shoved herself out of bed and quickly dressed in breeches, a shirt and boots.

The members of the guard in the halls bowed to her as she quickly passed; she nodded her head in response, but wasn't going to stop and talk, especially since she was sure there were still tears on her face. None of them questioned her being out of bed, wandering the castle so obscenely late, Snow had always kept strange hours, and recently she'd taken to going for walks when she couldn't sleep. She snagged an apple from the bowl of fruit set out in the kitchen as she passed through on her way out to the stables.

Snow entered through the side door and briskly approached Aravis' stall, grabbing a lead line on her way, the horse greeted her sleepily. Her hand closed over the latch, ready to yank it open and bring the mare out to saddle up. The logical side of her mind resurged, stilling her. She gritted her teeth at the inner debate that began anew. In frustration the princess threw the line on a nearby table, spinning on heel and beginning to pace up and down the aisle, stride sharp.

Oh, how she wanted to tell the reasonable, rational voice to go to hell, and ride off to Seaborn for her Charming. The familiar scent of wood, straw and horses–not James' scent but one that she associated with him–was working its magic and starting to calm her emotional turmoil somewhat and allowing clear thought. But how she hated it.

Her pacing drew to a stop a few feet away from Aravis' stall; she allowed her jaw to clench once more in annoyance and frustration before forcing herself to take a deep breath. Snow then made her way over to her mare. Sleep wouldn't be forthcoming and she was still feeling far too emotional; since she could not seek the comfort of her beloved she would take what she could get from tending to her favorite horse.

"Hello, my girl," Snow softly cooed to the horse, tears liberally lacing her tone.

Aravis worriedly nosed her mistress' stomach, sensing her pain.

"I'll be fine," the princess assured her, running her hands over the mare's head. She reached into her pocket for the apple and fed it to the gold-colored horse.

While Aravis happily munched on the apple, Snow let herself into the stall, pulling out a brush which she began to run over her horse's coat. The dark-haired princess let her hands go through the rhythmic motions of brushing Aravis' golden coat, allowing the familiar movement to help soothe her a bit.

She tried to focus her thoughts on the horse, to try and distract herself from the nightmare, though she wasn't entirely successful.

Snow set aside the brush, retrieved the comb and began to gently work it through Aravis' mane. She could still feel an edginess within herself, but most of the earlier terror was gone.

"I miss him, 'Ravie," she quietly admitted to her horse, calling her a pet name she rarely used anymore. "It makes me feel on edge, not having him with me. Like…" She frowned slightly while her fingers gently worked out a snarl in the cream-colored locks. "Like I'm half expecting something terrible to happen to him if he's out of my sight even for a moment." A self-deprecating smile twisted her lips. "Pretty silly, huh?"

Aravis let out a huffing breath, shaking her head and looking back at her mistress as if to contradict her.

Snow ran a fond hand down the mare's face and pressed a kiss to her forelock. "Thank you, sweet girl." She scratched Aravis' neck under her mane, the way she liked. "Thank you for being such a good listener and friend."

The mare nuzzled her side as if to say, "Of course."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Belle's eyes lifted to stare up at Everland castle as Gaspard helped her down from the carriage. It was an entirely different style from Seaborn and Riverdon, but still breathtakingly beautiful and suited to its environment.

"Gaspard! Thomas!"

The librarian's gaze was drawn down the steps to the front doors by the feminine voice calling out to her companions. _This must be Princess Snow White_, she mused to herself. The princess was beautiful, graceful in her hurried steps down the stairs, her face alight with joy at seeing the guests, though as she came closer Belle could also see dark circles under her eyes. Belle's gaze went to Gaspard beside her to see worry lightly crease his brow; the princess either didn't see it or chose to ignore it, rising on her toes to hug the tall king tightly. Belle studiously ignored the sting of jealousy she felt at how natural the gesture was for them, obviously a common endearment between them.

"Snow," Gaspard greeted the dark-haired woman, affection obvious in his tone.

After Snow dropped a sisterly kiss on the king's cheek, she turned and hugged Thomas with almost equal affection, she also whispered something to the prince too low for the other two to hear, which had him grinning broadly at her.

The princess then turned to Belle with a bright smile. "Are you two going to introduce us?" she inquired of the two men teasingly.

"Snow White," Thomas began, "this is Belle of Seaborn." The librarian was a little surprised at how the princess' eyes lit with even more happiness. "Belle," the prince continued, "Princess Snow White of Everland."

Belle curtsied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty," she greeted formally.

Snow stepped closer to her, taking one of her hands in both of hers. "Please, call me Snow. I've been looking forward to meeting you; James and Liam have spoken very highly of you."

The brunette was a bit thrown by the princess' warm and instant acceptance of her and the offer to be on a first name basis so soon after their meeting, though she could definitely see another thing that had drawn James to her: her easy, casual manner. "I would be honored."

The princess grinned, shifting to include the two men in her gaze. "Come, I'll show you to your rooms."

"Are you sure your father is all right with us staying here?" Thomas questioned as they made their way up the stairs.

"Very," the raven-haired woman assured him. "The only reason he wasn't here to greet you is that he's in a meeting with Lord Willoughby."

Belle was shocked by the sudden venom in her voice, which up until then had been sweet and joyous.

Gaspard's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What does that letch want?"

Snow rolled her own eyes. "Who knows, he's always making up excuses to come here and try to convince Father and I that he'd be a _wonderful_ choice of husband for me." Her expression was as sour as her tone.

The prince and librarian looked back and forth between the other two.

"Who is Lord Willoughby?" Thomas finally inquired.

"A local noble," the princess began.

"And a sad excuse for a human being," Gaspard added, mouth set in a grim line.

"Father will see to it he finds the door as soon as possible," Snow assured them. "He doesn't bother letting the toad even see me now during these visits. He knows how much I despise the odious man. But let's not talk about him," she stated definitively, arm still looped through Belle's as the stepped through the double doors. "Mara," a dark-haired, brown-eyed maid stepped forward, curtseying, "could you see to it that Mistress Belle is placed in the room next to mine?"

Belle's eyes became as wide as saucers, but if this was an unusual request for the princess the maid gave no indication.

"Right away, mistress." She hurried off, presumably to make the arrangements.

"That's not necessary–"

Snow was already shaking her head, cutting off any protests. "With two male visitors in residence, it's best that you stay in the family wing for propriety's sake," she countered simply. "Besides," her grin widened, "I'm looking forward to spending the time getting to know you."

As she allowed the dark-haired princess to lead her up the stairs, Belle had the feeling that this was the start of an eventful and interesting visit.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Taking a break from sparring, James bent down to pick up his skin of water and, straightening, lifted it to his lips for a long drink.

"Are you _trying_ to permanently run off any potential sparring partners?"

The fair-haired prince rolled his eyes at Liam's sardonic question. "You volunteering?" He glanced over his shoulder.

His general snorted. "Thanks, but I'd prefer not to be limping off the field today nursing injuries."

"If it means you'll tell me what the hell has you so riled up and snapping at everyone, _I'll_ volunteer." Phillip began to unfasten his jerkin, drawing his sword.

James clenched his jaw as the dream from the night before rose before his eyes.

_Clattering of weapons, cries of pain and death echoed into their quarters from the hall._

_Despair and defeat crashed over him at the loud sounds. "Then our plan has failed," he said resignedly. He looked back down where Snow was gazing at their newborn daughter with such utter horror at what could befall their baby. "At least we're together." He wrapped his arm around her tighter, resting his forehead against hers and stroking his other hand lovingly over Emma's head. At least he'd be with his family, the people he loved most in the world, as the end came._

"_No." A firm resolution had entered his wife's voice. "You have to take her."_

_He looked up at that statement; she couldn't _possibly_ mean what he thought she did…_

"_Take the baby to the wardrobe."_

"_Are you out of your mind?!" She could possibly think of sending their child through that thing _alone_ without one of them to protect and raise her!_

"_No. It's the only way," she insisted, meeting his incredulous gaze head on. "You have to send her through."_

"_No, no, no, no," he begged for her to stop, to not continue this madness, to just let them be. "You don't know what you're saying."_

"_No, I _do_," Snow told him emphatically. "We _have_ to believe that she'll come back for us!"_

_His face crumpled, trying to hold back the new wave of tears, knowing deep down that his wife was right, but still trying to fight against that knowledge, not willing to part with his family. He gazed down at Emma's tiny face, worrying about what would happen to their innocent child where ever she was going._

"_We have to give her her best chance!"_

_James lifted his gaze to Snow again, seeing the pain he was feeling reflected in her own eyes and lining her face, unable to deny the truth of what she said now. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, trying to restrain his reaction; he looked back down at their daughter and bent his head to kiss her forehead, heart aching._

_Snow gazed at their baby with such love and longing. "Good-bye, Emma," she whispered before pressing a kiss to Emma's cheek._

_The prince brushed a hand comfortingly over her back, wanting so badly to be able to make this all stop, to somehow seal them all away in a place where this nightmare couldn't touch the ones he loved, but he didn't have that power._

_His wife slowly lifted her head and reluctantly passed their newborn daughter to him, fingers lingering even once he had Emma safely settled in his arms. He stared down at their child in his arms for the first, and possibly last, time. His blue eyes lifted to meet Snow's emerald ones. Unable to stop himself he bent to give her one last kiss, trying not to think that it might be the last he _ever_ shared with her. By sheer will, and the driving knowledge that he had to save their daughter, he pulled himself away from his beloved and hurried across the room to where his sword hung in its sheath from the chair and drew it, the mettle zinging._

_Just before he reached the doorway James turned back. Snow mustered a smile for him through the tears crowding her eyes; he forced a small one in return, though it was probably more a grim line than anything. Before he could change his mind he rushed out the door and into the hall._

_Though she'd obviously been holding it back and trying not to let him hear, Snow's agonized sobs easily reached his ears…_

He swiped a hand across his eyes, as if he could erase the memory just like that. Snow's cries had still been ringing in his ears when he'd awoken, hand closed around the hilt of his sword, hardly able to breathe through the pain racking him.

"Never mind," he growled and, rather than engaging his friend, stalked off.

All the training and work in the world wasn't going to make this better. He needed Snow, in front of him where he could touch her and hold her and reassure himself that she was happy, alive and well. But he couldn't leave, not so soon after his return and not when he still had so much to mend here.

His eyes went to the area of the garden his mother had dedicated to her lilies. James went over to one of the few remaining stargazers–this late in the summer most had already long ago finished blooming and had faded–he broke off one of the blossoms and took it with him, needing some connection to the woman he loved. The strong, sweet scent of the lily, a reminder of its scent on Snow, would hopefully ease some of his anxiety.

Maybe.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Phillip watched his friend's actions curiously. James wasn't someone he'd call a "plant-person," always more interested in animals and people when it came to living things. So his picking a flower was definitely noteworthy.

The more time Phillip had spent around his friend since Snow White had first come into the picture the more the dark-haired prince wanted to meet the woman who was tying his oh-so-unflappable friend into such knots. He was torn between amusement that someone could shake James up, and anger that she could also cause him so much pain.

Phillip was beginning to wonder if perhaps it was time to finally suck it up and meet Aurora, if for no other reason than it might give him an excuse to finally meet Snow White.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Liam sighed, shaking his head. James wasn't dealing with the separation from Snow well at all, and according to the letter he'd received yesterday from Red, via one of Snow's bluebirds, the princess wasn't fairing much better.

He tapped a finger against the hilt of his sheathed sword. Gods, he hoped James got things straightened out well enough that he could leave sooner rather than later for Everland. Red's letter had made her feelings on the matter clear, reiterating a threat she'd apparently made to James while in Lochdubh, something about wandering into Seaborn during wolf's time.

_Snow and James were making their rather passionate goodbyes to each other a few feet away; Ella was keeping her gaze well averted, trying to ignore them. Red rolled her eyes as she turned to mount her horse, but Liam stepped in front of her, blocking her way._

"_Do _I _get a goodbye kiss?"_

_She cocked that sassy eyebrow at him, crossing her arms. "And why would I kiss you goodbye?"_

_He grinned at her broadly. "Because you want to."_

"_Well, aren't we full of ourselves," she commented sarcastically._

_He just kept grinning at her._

_They stood like that for several moments before Red abruptly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him the scant few inches between them and pulling herself up to press her lips to his._

_Liam gripped her by the waist, kissing her back with equal enthusiasm._

_Just as suddenly as she initiated the kiss she pulled her mouth from his; he tried to follow her, but she placed one hand over his mouth and used the other to push against his chest._

"_Something to think about, and motivate you to visit Everland with your liege when he comes to propose." With that she turned on her heel and swung up into the horse's saddle._

He smirked at the memory of their parting in Lochdubh. In the letter Red had reminded him that he'd better be of the party when his prince _did_ visit again or she'd be forced to take "extreme measures." Liam was actually intrigued by what those measures might be; grinning, he wondered inwardly if that made him a masochist…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella pulled a clothes pin from the pocket of her apron, hanging Sneezy's vest on the line. The chores had piled up a little over the week she'd been gone, but not as badly as she'd worried they might. Apparently the dwarfs had taken care to try not to make too much of a mess and keep the house relatively neat. According to Red this showed how much they really liked Ella, that they would put the effort in to keep things from becoming too messy to make her job easier upon her return, and that they wouldn't want to disappoint her.

The blonde grinned, she'd become fond of the seven quirky men as well; as demanding as working for seven miners could be it was miles and away easier than the forced slavery she'd been under with her stepmother and sisters. The dwarfs were gentle and kind, never pushing her to exhaustion and insisting that she eat with them, making sure she had enough. Quite often they would lend a hand with chores, even though it was her job, wanting to help out. A couple of days ago they'd returned from the mines and accidentally tracked in mud all over the floor she'd just cleaned that afternoon. With one sad, disappointed glance from her at the dirty floor they'd all been scrambling for mops, buckets and brooms to clean up the mess they'd made. Since then they made sure to take off their shoes at the door before coming in.

Ella glanced inside her kitchen window, grinning at the sight of the bright blue glass vase with wildflowers spilling from it. Dopey brought flowers home nearly every day, smiling so brightly as he held them proudly out to her.

For a while she'd thought that Grumpy didn't like her since he didn't speak much to her and was quite gruff while doing so, until she mentioned this to Snow. The princess had grinned and asked about one of her chairs that had been wobbly. With a frown Ella had looked down at the chair she was sitting on, the very one, and realized that it had been rock-steady for quite a long time. Snow pointed to the pump at the sink commenting offhandedly about how nice it was that it didn't leak anymore. The blonde's jaw had hit the floor, catching her friend's drift. The princess had laughed and explained that Grumpy wasn't one who overtly showed affection, he did so quietly through such small actions and without need of being thanked.

After that Ella began learning the ways best to let the dwarfs know she appreciated what they did and that she cared for them as well. She learned their favorite foods–Grumpy had a particular love of her strawberry rhubarb pie–how they preferred their clothes cleaned–Happy hated his collar to be starched–their rooms cleaned–she always dusted and swept Sneezy's sleeping space first so that the dust was out of the air long before he got home…

She found herself happy doing these extra little things, happy seeing their enjoyment of what she did. Ella hadn't had a real family since her father died, but that's what the dwarfs, Snow and Red were quickly becoming for her. Her life wasn't necessarily easy, but she was the happiest she'd been in far too many years.

Now if only…

"Would you like a hand with those?"

Ella froze. For a moment she thought perhaps she was wishing so hard for Thomas that her mind had conjured his voice. She turned her head to find him standing a few feet away. Doc's shirt slipped from her suddenly slack grip. Her feet took a couple of halting steps forward, seemingly unsure of what to do, how to react; she wanted so badly to give into the impulse running through her, but years of manners and etiquette were piping up in the back of her mind. She hesitated. Then, setting her lips into a determined line, pushed past her reservations and raced the last few feet between them, throwing her arms around him. He caught her, holding her just as tightly in return.

No, not a dream, this was _quite_ real, much to her joy.

"So can I take this as you missed me?" Thomas teased.

Pulling back slightly, she smirked at him. "Just a little."

With a grin he ducked his head down to press his lips to hers. Ella melted into him, sighing contentedly into the kiss. Her hand rose to cup the side of his face, thumb running over his cheek, enjoying the rasp of his stubble against the pad of the digit.

Thomas kept one arm locked around her waist, holding her against him while his other hand tunneled into her loosely pulled back hair, reveling in the soft locks sliding through his fingers. Like always she smelled fresh and clean, like when the sun broke through after a spring rain, with just a hint of lavender clinging to her skin.

When their lips finally parted he ran his hands up and down her arms. "I missed you too."

Ella grinned up at him, taking one of his hands in hers and pulling him after her back to the clothes line. "You said something about lending me a hand?"

He chuckled, accepting the pair of pants she pushed into his hands along with the pins she took from her apron. "Word of warning," he fumblingly pinned one side of the trousers on the line, "I have never done this before."

"Well, it's a good thing that this is one of the easier chores then," she told him teasingly.

In the time it took him to hang the one pair of pants she'd hung two shirts and a pair of socks and was already handing him a shirt and more pins to hang. He smirked. "I think Snow and Red have been a strong influence on you. You're quite bossy."

She tilted her chin up proudly, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Thank you." She tilted her head to the side inquiringly. "How were things in Seaborn over the solstice?"

Thomas grimaced. "Tense. Father was naturally less than pleased with James leaving like he did, though things seemed a little bit better when I left, though neither of them has ever really gotten along that well. Of the three of us sons, James was always the one least close to Father."

"Because David was the favorite?" Ella asked. Thomas had hashed out for her his sordid family dynamics, save for the most recent revelations which he wasn't going to divulge without James' permission, over his last visit.

"No," he shook his head for emphasis. "That never bothered James, he's just so unlike Father that they couldn't really find much common ground. They love each other," he quickly added, "but they just don't see eye to eye on a lot of things."

"How is James dealing with it?"

"As he usually does," Thomas shrugged, "arguing quite forcefully with Father, but biting his tongue on some of his choicer words and fulfilling his duty as he always does."

Ella eyed him thoughtfully. "And how are _you_ handling it?"

He grinned at her a little self-deprecatingly. "I'm a little more passive-aggressive in how I go against our father. James and David would outright argue with him, more so James than David–oh, the shouting matches that they've had! Meanwhile, usually I'll listen to Father, not argue with him, and turn around, ignore what he said, and do as I see fit. But I have occasionally butted heads with him quite strongly and overtly when I felt it necessary. Besides, I'm not Father's heir apparent, I don't have to deal with the same pressures that James does, so it's a totally different kettle of fish anyway."

Her gaze remained on him levelly. "And how are you dealing with your upcoming coronation?"

The prince gave a short laugh. "Scared stiff." He grinned at her. "It's going to be a couple of months after the fall equinox."

Ella's eyebrows rose in surprise. "I hadn't realized it was so soon."

"Yeah," Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "I half want to run as far and as fast as I can in the absolute opposite direction, and half can't wait to get to work." He smiled at her wryly. "All these years James has been trying to explain to me the feeling and now I finally know firsthand what he means."

She reached over to tangle her fingers with his, thumb smoothing over the back of his hand. "You'll be a great king, Thomas. You care deeply about your people."

His fingers tightened around hers and he gently pulled her closer to him. "Ella…" He reached out and took her other hand in his. "I was wondering…if you would agree to come to my coronation? Snow is going to be attending with her father and stepmother; she said that she'd love for you to join their party."

Ella's breath caught. It was seemingly an innocent invitation, but they both knew that it meant much more than that. Even though Ella was the daughter of a wealthy, highly ranked merchant and landowner it still wasn't exactly the norm for her to attend such an event. Her attending with Snow would keep it from appearing too strange to outsiders, but they both knew with her agreement they were crossing a bridge that they couldn't backtrack from. She crossed the bridge at a sprint. "I would be happy to attend."

Thomas grinned brilliantly, lifting both of her hands to kiss the backs of her fingers. "Thank you."

She returned his smile with an equally bright one.

He released her hands to cradle her face between his palms. "By the way," his grin was both joyous and teasing, "I love you too."

Ella didn't think she could smile any wider as his lips settled over hers.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"I hope that you will be comfortable here." Snow smiled brightly at Belle over her shoulder from where she was opening the doors to the balcony in the guestroom.

"It's wonderful," the young librarian assured her hostess, following her out onto the balcony. "Thank you so much for all of this."

The princess clasped her hands in front of her. "You're very welcome."

The brunette bit her lip before continuing. "I have been looking forward to meeting you since James returned from Everland and spoke of you. He has been as a brother to me, and the look in his eyes whenever he speaks of you…I have always hoped he'd find such a love."

Snow actually felt her cheeks grow warm at her guest's words. "James' love is more than I ever dreamed of finding." Her hand went to press against her chest over where the ring hung, her heart aching with missing him. Not wanting to linger on how much she was missing Charming and not quite ready to share something so personal with a woman she'd just met, she cast her mind around for another topic. One came to her quickly and a small teasing grin pulled at her lips. "You know, I've known Gaspard all my life and I have never seen him so attentive to a woman before."

Now it was Belle's face that flushed crimson. "He has been very kind to me and I can talk with him like I can with few others. His mind is so sharp." Her eyes flew wide. "Not that you and James and Thomas aren't intelligent!"

The princess was already waving her words off, moving to settle into one of the two chairs at the luncheon table on the balcony. "Don't worry about it." Humor colored her tone. "I know what you mean. Gaspard's mind has always been one of the most astute I've ever encountered. He seems to see everything and absorbs information so quickly. He usually is patient with people and willing to wait for them to catch up to him in his deductions, but I do know that he tires at times of how much slower the rest of the world seems."

As Belle came to sit in the other chair Snow's grin became mischievous. "When we were children and had tutors, sometimes we would be taught together and I remember how he often became bored because his intellect wasn't properly exercised which resulted in many entertaining pranks from him."

The brunette's eyebrows shot up.

Snow laughed softly. "I know, he doesn't seem the prank type, does he?"

"No," Belle agreed, eyebrows still near her hairline.

A wistfulness entered the raven-haired woman's expression. "His parents' deaths and his injuries were hard on him; they sobered him a great deal, forcing him to grow up much faster than he normally would have." An amused smile quirked her lips. "Though he still has a very wry and keen sense of humor."

Belle gazed at the woman next to her watchfully. "Were you two…did you two…?"

The princess' emerald eyes turned to her questioningly.

The librarian took a deep bracing breath. "Were you two ever…an item?"

Lighthearted laughter spilled from Snow. "No, no, no." She chuckled a little. "Some time ago we considered a friendship-marriage, since both of us were tired of the matchmaking schemes that were being tried upon us. We thought that perhaps we could have a good marriage based on our strong friendship and mutual respect. However, neither of us could think of the other in terms other than filial, so we quit the idea before we ever even brought it up to anyone else. But no," she shook her head for emphasis, "we have never actually courted."

The brunette couldn't help the relief that swept through her.

There was a teasing gleam in Snow's eyes. "You'll be the first woman any of us has ever seen him show a real interest in."

Belle looked back at the princess, a little wary.

There was a rather smug and satisfied look on her face. "For once _he'll_ be the one on the receiving end of teasing."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Leopold watched his daughter quietly give instructions to a couple of servants regarding their guests; they listened intently, going off to do as she bid instantly. It comforted him to know that the servants listened to and obeyed her so willingly already, boding well for how the castle would run when she became queen.

"Good evening, Father." She gave him a small, if somewhat distracted, smile.

"Snow," he returned. "You seem happy with our visitors here.

"Hmm," she acknowledged with a wider smile. "I'm always glad to see Gaspard and Thomas, and I've been looking forward to meeting Belle."

His daughter kept her eyes on the hallway ahead of them; he gazed at her assessingly. "Prince Thomas has been visiting with fair frequency over the last few months," he commented neutrally.

"Yes," Snow agreed, "I know he's very nervous about his coronation this fall and wants to be sure that he has strong ties with neighboring kingdoms. Plus," a grin lit her expression, "coming here gives him a chance to spend more time courting Ella."

"Ella?" He stopped dead, staring at his daughter in surprise.

She turned to him, nodding. "Yes." After taking in his expression, her face became puzzled, tilting her head to the side. "I thought that you knew."

Leopold felt quite relieved at this news–he'd been leery of having another prince of Seaborn interested in Snow–but he cleared his throat uncomfortably, a bit embarrassed at his mistake. "No, I…I actually thought his affections lay elsewhere…"

The princess frowned uncomprehendingly for a moment at her father, before understanding flooded her expression. "Oh, no! No! Thomas and I…" She shook her head more firmly. "No, he and I are just friends." Normally she would have just left it at that, but the frustrations she'd felt when she first returned from Lochdubh and had successfully buried all of this time, resurged. Her eyes narrowed. "No, my affections lie elsewhere, and have done so for quite some time."

She could tell he knew what she meant from the look in his eyes. "Snow–"

"You know, I saw James while I was in Lochdubh," she interrupted him; something she was fairly certain she'd never done to her father. Her lips compressed into a thin line. "He told me how he'd asked you for my hand and you refused him…" Her jaw set. "_Without_ even consulting me."

"My dear." Leopold reached for her hands, but she jerked them from his grasp, moving a few paces back, staring at him with something he had never seen in her eyes directed at him before. Distrust, hurt and anger. And did it ever tear at his heart. He curled his fingers into fists, frustrated at his own feelings of impotence at the moment. "I was just trying to protect you. There's a situation with Midas–"

"He wants James to marry Abigail," Snow cut in. "I know. James told me a couple of days before you turned him down." At the flash of surprise in her father's eyes she continued, "We decided early on that we didn't want secrets in our relationship. We're both very open and honest with each other."

"Snow, the situation with Midas could be dangerous–"

"James is working out a plan to break with Midas peaceably, and considering all the options should things not go well." Her face crumpled. "What hurts, Father, is that you didn't even think to _ask_ me how I felt in the matter."

"I knew how you felt, Snow," he countered as gently as he could manage. "I saw you talking, walking and sitting with him during the visits here and in Riverdon. But I wasn't convinced he really loved you since you were his only other option for marriage."

"And you didn't trust me to know my own heart and to know his well enough." Her hands were clenched at her sides. "James wouldn't risk his kingdom for anything less than real, _true_ love."

His expression became stunned.

"Yes, Father," she nodded her head firmly, "I said 'true love.' That's what James and I have and neither of us is willing to give that up for _anything_." She took a step closer to her father. "I love you, Father, but I _am_ going to marry James. He's going to propose to me properly and I'm going to accept him, with or without your blessing." Pain flashed across her face. "Though, I would infinitely prefer it to be with."

The stood facing each other in silence for several moments before Snow finally turned and walked off without another word.

Leopold remained standing there. Staring at the wall and wondering when his daughter had grown up and stopped seeing him with the eyes of a child.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"So basically you and I are to be chaperones to two couples on this little trip?"

Snow laughed softly at the sour note in Red's voice. "Yes. Though Gaspard and Belle have not actually admitted to anything, but I recognize the way he looks at her." She carefully cut a few more _lacrimae lunaris_ that were spilling over the sides of the raised flowerbeds in the palace gardens.

Her friend muttered something under her breath following behind her, hands on hips, and then said audibly, "I guess we now know how Ella felt while we were in Lochdubh."

"Hmm," the princess quietly agreed, placing the flowers into her basket.

Red watched the woman she loved as a sister. Snow had been much too quiet for her tastes, though not in the same way as before James' letter to her explaining his actions in Riverdon. And the dark smudges under her eyes, which deepened daily, worried Red. Snow frequently pulled out the ring that hung from her neck, fidgeting with it, gaze unseeing and thoughts far off.

Red could hardly blame her friend, her own heart traitorously longed for Liam, missing him sorely even though she tried to make herself not think about him. But he crept into her thoughts with increasing frequency. Snow and Ella caught her daydreaming the other day, she was fairly certain neither of them was going to let her live it down.

"You know, Father actually thought that Thomas kept visiting because of me."

Red looked at her friend again, brow furrowed. "What?"

Snow's lips were twitching with amusement. "Yes, he thought that Thomas was infatuated with me."

The younger dark-haired woman's jaw fell open in shock before laughter began rolling from her heartily.

"Mmm," the princess agreed amusedly. "I corrected him of course."

"Of course," her friend agreed through chuckles.

Gradually the amusement drained from Snow's face. "I confronted him about his refusing James' request to marry me."

That instantly sobered Red; she'd never heard of any disagreements between Snow and her father, ever. But she couldn't imagine that her best friend had let the king off lightly after all the pain she'd gone through. "What did he say?"

The raven-haired woman shrugged. "That he was trying to protect me."

Hazel eyes studied the princess' posture, the rigid set of her shoulders. "Did you forgive him?"

Snow let out a soft breath. "Working on it. He didn't exactly apologize."

Red winced. Her friend would never insist on an apology from her father, but it would have gone miles in soothing the hurt she felt and mending things.

The princess rose, dusting off her hands and brushing dirt and grass from her skirt. "I also informed him that we were getting married."

The younger woman cocked an eyebrow, helping her friend gather up the blooms she'd picked. "And how did he respond to _that_?"

"Nothing." She hung the basket from her arm. "I think my telling him James is my true love rendered him speechless."

Red couldn't stop the laughter that rang out. "Oh, my! I would have _loved_ to have seen the expression on his face from that!"

It was still obvious how much her father's difficulty accepting her decision troubled her, but Snow returned her friend's amusement with a wide grin, looping her arm through Red's. "It _was_ rather satisfying."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_But I love you."_

"_And _that _is what makes it all _so sad_."_

James gasped in a breath, jerking awake. His hand instinctively went to the other side of the bed, searching for Snow, his pulse skyrocketing when he found it cold and empty. But then he remembered where he was, and where Snow was. He slumped back on the mattress, scrubbing a hand over his face; he stared up at the canopy of his bed, the scarlet color indistinguishable in the darkness of his room.

He tried to remember what his dream had been about, but it had just felt like a jumble of color, sounds and images, with only a few things jumping out. He frowned remembering the last words that had echoed through his mind before waking. Said in his and Snow's voices…and yet _not_ their voices. Something vital was missing from each of their tones, from the essences of who they were…

The prince groaned, swiping a hand across his eyes and shaking his head at his own thoughts, before rising from bed. James cast a glance at the open windows to see it still dark as pitch and sighed, knowing that what meager few hours' sleep he'd managed would be all he'd get that night. He dressed in just a shirt, breeches and his boots before making his way up to the tallest tower. He settled into one of the crenels, as he'd done countless times before, with his back against a merlon. Instead of his gaze being on the ocean, as it usually was, it was turned in the direction of Everland, though he could only see its guardian mountains from here.

"You've been restless since you came home."

The prince's head turned at his mother's voice, finding her standing at the top of the stairs and hatch into the tower.

"Have you had a full night's sleep at all?" Her brow was creased with worry.

James considered evading the question or even flat-out lying to try and ease his mother's mind, but he knew she'd know he wasn't being truthful. "No," he stated honestly.

Ruth moved to where he was sitting; he drew up his legs so that she could sit in the crenel with him, her back against the opposite merlon, feet resting on the floor. "What's troubling you, son?"

His gaze went back out toward his love's kingdom, hand absently rubbing his chest over his heart, as if that could ease the constant ache there a small amount. "I…" He sighed, rubbing his fingers over his eyes.

"Is it about Snow White?"

Blue eyes met all-too-knowing brown ones; a wry smile twisted James' lips. "I miss her," he admitted.

A teasing glint entered her eyes. "I would be worried if you didn't."

He laughed softly. "We never could hide anything from you."

Ruth couldn't help smiling back at her son's unbridled, boyish grin; James had certainly grown up, but that was one thing about him that had never changed, that bright, wide smile. And she was glad for it. "When do you plan to see her again?"

"In a couple of weeks."

She managed to quell the disappointment that rose in her at learning she'd be losing her son again so soon. "And will you propose to her then as well?"

James took a deep breath. "That's the plan." His thumb rubbed along a scar on his index finger, a habit since he'd received it as a small child from a knife she'd told him not to touch.

The queen brushed a hand over the skirt of her dressing robe to drape it more comfortably along her legs before loosely clasping her hands in her lap once again. "Does she know what you intend?"

His eyes met hers, something she couldn't quite read in them. "I gave her the ring."

Ruth froze, eyebrows rising on her forehead.

"I didn't put it on her finger," he continued quickly, "but I wanted her to have it, as a tangible promise that I would return to her to propose properly."

Her fingers knotted together, feeling anxiety over her next question. "And Midas and Abigail?"

"I'm going to break with him, hopefully they won't take offense." His jaw set, obviously worried.

"And if they _do_?"

James stared down at his hands as they tightened into fists. "I have a possible plan that I need to discuss with Snow and Thomas… But hopefully it won't come to that." His eyes went to his mother again. "She's my true love," he told her simply.

Her breath caught at hearing her son say that in such a definitive tone, not even a trace of doubt.

"And…even though I feel like…like a traitor, a bad monarch, saying it…I can't give her up for anyone or any_thing_." He dropped his head, scrubbing a hand over his scalp. "I'm struggling without her just over these few weeks…I can't _breathe_ even _thinking_ of not being with her forever." His gaze lifted to hers, eyes begging for her understanding.

Ruth reached out, cupping his cheek with her hand, unconditional love and acceptance in her brown eyes. "All that I have ever wanted for my sons is for them to be as happy as possible…and to find true love for themselves."

A relieved smile spread across his face as his hand rose to cover hers; he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Thank you, Mother."

She brought her other hand up to cradle her son's face between them and press a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, son." Tears pricked her eyes as she smiled at him. "Always." She let her forehead rest against his. "You have my blessing."

His wide, bright grin was back again as he enfolded her in a tight hug. "I love you too. Thank you."

Her eyes closed, enjoying this embrace from her child. _How quickly they grow up_, she mused inwardly. She was still smiling as a tear managed to slip down her cheek. _And how happy and proud they made you when they make the right choices._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thank you so much for reading! :-D I know there isn't really any direct Snowing in this and I don't think there will be in the next chapter either, but the next one should set it up for them so see each other again…and that's all I'm going to say about that! ;-} I'm going to be working quite a bit with Belle/Gaspard and Ella/Thomas in the next chapter continuing what's going on here. Phillip was a bit of a surprise… O.O I didn't think he was going to stick his nose into things so soon, but he seems to be threatening it and if he decides to follow through on going to visit Aurora…needless to say it's gonna be _interesting_… XD And YES Snow and James' memories are creeping steadily in…including their SB ones. Which when they really start remembering SB things are gonna being pretty strange for them. ;-} I hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter! Please let me know what you think! :-D


	17. Chapter 15: The Best of Times

For those of you wondering what the hell took so long in writing this chapter, in Word it is over 40 pages long and 18,500+ words, and I have been struggling and obsessing like crazy over getting it right. Hopefully the obscene length will make up from the long wait at least somewhat… Thank you so much everyone for the reviews, tweets, messages, faves and follows! :-D I really hope that you guys enjoy it!

**Sassy**, THANK YOU! Thank you for holding my hand through this chapter and pushing me further to make it better and pointing out where I could make improvements. You're freaking amazing, hon! :-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 15: The Best of Times and the Worst of Times…**

Snow, Red, Gaspard, Belle, Thomas and Ella were up early, loading their baggage for the journey to Rosewood. Gaspard, Belle and Red were going to be riding in the king's open carriage; Gaspard's bad leg made riding difficult and long journeys painful, Belle was not a horsewoman and Red…well, very few horses were comfortable around her and she generally preferred traveling by carriage or wagon when given the choice. The ride to and from Lochdubh had difficult for both her and the gelding she rode.

The other half of their party _would_ be riding horseback, Thomas on the steed he'd brought with him, being as accomplished a rider as James; Ella after admitting that she had been enamored of horses and riding since childhood and her father taught her well; and Snow of course was going to ride Aravis.

"Why is it young people are always in a rush to be off somewhere, always leaving and traveling around the realms?"

Six heads turned at the voice; all save Belle's were alight with affection and amusement. The young librarian had only met Lord Henry the night before, however she was struck by the man's ready smile and easy nature, comforted by it. They had spent quite a bit of time during dinner and afterward discussing books that they both had read, having differing views on them but equally interesting opinions and arguments for their thoughts. She had found herself unable to help feeling at ease in his presence, the sentiment similar to how she felt around her father.

The elderly man spread his arms wide, grinning broadly at the group. "Do I get a hug goodbye?"

Snow went into her surrogate grandfather's arms at a run, overenthusiastically diving into his embrace with a lighthearted laugh. He chuckled, holding her close, eyes closed, reveling in holding the closest thing he ever had to a grandchild. "Well, that's quite a hug!"

She laughed as she pulled back, humor sparkling in her eyes. "Just wanted to give you a proper goodbye," she joked.

Red was next in hugging the older man and laughingly instructed him to "be good" and to make sure that Granny did so as well; there were several snorts at that.

When Ella gave Henry a hug he winked teasingly and told her to have a _very_ good time, making the blonde blush furiously and shake her head at him amusedly.

Gaspard shook his hand firmly, bowing his head out of respect for the older man, while Henry reminded him of a book he'd promised to lend him; the king promised to send it back with Snow and the others.

Thomas however was told to have a good time but not _too_ good of a time; when he asked what had happened to "have a _very_ good time" Henry had said that he knew Ella's definition of a good time full well, but he was still learning Thomas'. This had Ella again blushing brilliantly, Thomas' eyebrows taking up residence near his hairline and the others choking on laughter with Snow attempting to sound chiding…and failing miserably at it.

Finally he turned to Belle, a gentle smile on his face. "Well, my dear." He reached out with his hands to take both of hers, a gesture she couldn't help reciprocating with a grin of her own. "Remember to take _full_ advantage of access to the library at Rosewood," his eyes twinkled with laughter, "not that I would expect anything less."

She gave a soft laugh. "Oh, I do plan to do that."

"Though, you might want to drag yourself away from the library at least once to take a turn or two of the gardens."

Grin bright, she nodded. "I fully intend to do so, perhaps even pass some time reading in the gardens as well."

"Good." His answering smile was wide and pleased.

She hesitated a moment and then gave in to the slightly out of character impulse to peck his cheek.

Shock was obvious on his face, but then a smile once again spread across it; he gave her hands one last affectionate squeeze. "Thank you, my dear."

With a slight pink tinge to her cheeks and a sweet smile, Belle moved over to the carriage where Gaspard gave her a hand up.

Snow approached her surrogate grandfather once more.

His eyebrows rose in teasing. "Always running off on a visit."

She laughed and softly explained. "Well, this time it's more as a chaperone than for myself."

Henry's mouth pulled into a grin. "I had thought as much."

The princess' eyes cut to the two couples. "Yes, they aren't subtle."

One eyebrow cocked. "No less so than another couple I know…"

Snow was torn between blushing and laughing at his pointed words and look, hand rising to press over where the ring hung around her neck. She shook the urge off though, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Well, if you think James and I are bad wait until Liam gets here."

Now that intrigued Henry. "Really?"

"Hmm," she confirmed with a nod. "Red's reaction will be interesting."

He threw his head back with a laugh, drawing the attention of the other young people who were already either in the carriage or on horseback.

The raven-haired princess' gaze was full of laughter as well; she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and hug him again.

"You'll need to tell me all about that when you return," he muttered to her lowly before they drew apart.

Snow nodded her promise.

After he bestowed a kiss on her forehead she finally went over to Aravis and swung up in the saddle.

"Have a safe journey, all of you!" He waved as the horses were urged into motion, watching until they disappeared through the gates.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Phillip was checking the girth on his mount, James and Liam standing nearby as his farewell party. When he'd finished making sure it was tight enough, the dark-haired prince turned to his two friends. "Well, another fun-filled visit at an end."

"Good riddance to bad company," James swiftly rejoined.

The other prince staggered exaggeratedly with a hand to his heart, as if mortally wounded, but inwardly glad at seeing his friend closer to his usual humor. He still had trouble sleeping, was frequently lost in thought and refused to talk about what was wrong when he was agitated, but the dark mood that had been prevalent when Phillip first arrived had lightened considerably. The visiting prince mentally patted himself on the back for managing to help draw his friend out of his melancholy.

The fair-headed prince rolled his eyes amusedly at his friend's antics before stepping forward and clasping him in a hug. "Don't be a stranger."

"Oh, I don't plan on it!" Phillip gave him a wide grin when they released the embrace. "I still have to meet this princess of yours."

James rolled his eyes again. "You _have_ met her."

"I don't think a couple of meetings as children nearly two decades ago really qualify," Liam piped up.

"Exactly," their brown-haired friend agreed, pointing at the general. "She was a _very_ young child then, she's an adult now; a totally different person."

A half-grin quirked the sandy-haired prince's mouth. "Oh, she's not all that different."

One dark eyebrow rose. "Really?"

The grin became a smirk. "Gods help you," James added.

"I take it she remembers when we were children, then?"

"As I said," his friend told him, humor continuing to glint in his blue eyes, "gods help you. Especially when it comes to Aurora, from what I understand they're still _very_ close friends."

Phillip grinned broadly. "Oh, I never liked things easy. Drama makes things _so_ much more entertaining."

Liam snorted. "And here I thought _I_ was a masochist!" He and his prince shared all-too knowing smirks. "I think I'll agree with the 'gods help you' assessment, especially if you meet them all at once!"

"Mm." James nodded, one corner of his mouth still tipped upward. "Did Red mention that even Ella has begun to grow some claws?"

"Oh, yes!" The pair continued to keep the conversation between themselves, pretending to forget Phillip's existence. "And now Belle has joined them. Gods help us _all_ once they meet Jasmine!"

The mahogany-haired prince rolled his eyes. "You two are quite the double-act, you know that?" He gave a few fake, sarcastic laughs, drawing both of his friends' smug gazes. "I'm getting out of here before you start to think you're _real_ jesters." He swung up in the saddle. "_Or_ I catch this insanity that both of you and Thomas have decided to fall prey to."

"Watch out, Phillip," James warned, smirking, "love has a tendency of finding you when you least expect it… Who knows, maybe you and Aurora will find out you really _are_ each other's true love."

Liam was thrown into a coughing fit, turning his back to try and hide his chuffs of laughter.

"Right," their friend said drolly, "and the sun rises in the west and sets in the east." He shook his head. "I'll see you two in a few weeks." He reined his horse around in the direction of the gates. "Try and regain _some_ of your sanity before then."

"Not particularly missing it," the other prince stated after a moment of faux-thought; he turned to the general beside him. "What about you, Liam?"

He was grinning broadly and unashamedly. "Bid it quite the cheerful farewell."

Phillip rolled his eyes once again. "Farewell to the both of you."

"Safe journey, Phillip," James called after him.

Liam tossed a wave in their departing friend's direction, silently hoping that the good humor Phillip's visit had restored would hold at least until James could see Snow again.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Upon arriving at Rosewood castle Belle and the others found themselves swept up in the enthusiastic bustle of the servants, who were quite excited at having guests since Gaspard entertained so rarely outside of his tiny circle of friends. Red was fairly certain that she hadn't seen Cogsworth so puffed up with pride before. Lumiere was beside himself with the new visitors, being even more over-the-top than usual. Mrs. Potts was just bubbling over with excitement; Snow had the feeling, seeing how the housekeeper's eyes were extra bright whenever they landed on Belle, that the older woman had at least an inkling of Gaspard's feelings for the librarian.

Chip was his irrepressible, precocious self, charming both Belle and Thomas right off the bat, but quickly latching onto the quiet brunette upon learning her profession and firing off question after question, eager to learn what she might know. It took his mother gently chiding and reminding him that their guests had had a long morning of travel and likely wanted to freshen up before lunch to even slow him down. The towheaded boy cheerfully waved to them all before dashing off to his "secret" playhouse; Gaspard, Snow and Red exchanged an amused, knowing glance. At Belle, Thomas and Ella's curious expressions the trio explained about the tree house that had originally been theirs as children.

The four women were settled in rooms in a different wing from the prince and king; Belle's chamber was next to Ella's while Snow and Red's were directly across the hall from them.

It seemed as if whoever designed this palace favored windows. Floor-to-ceiling ones had graced almost every inch of the entrance hall, and now Belle was gaping at bay windows _and_ French doors leading out to a balcony in her room, all of them open to let the cooler air off the lake blow in. The fireplace, which was as tall as she was, was empty and clean as a whistle. The canopy bed was a comfortable size with sky blue drapes and linens embroidered with white and darker blue thread in swirling patterns. Crème-colored rugs were placed by the bed, in front of the fireplace and at each of the doors; with the way her shod feet sunk into the one at the door, Belle secretly ached to slip off her shoes and see if they were as soft as they seemed.

A maid, Babette, efficiently helped unpack her few belongings, even though Belle had protested that she could do it herself. The woman laughed and told her in a thick French accent that she was a guest and the "Master" wanted nothing less than the best for his guests.

At the barely smothered laughter coming from the door, Belle turned to find the princess and her two friends trying to stifle their amusement at the librarian's perplexed expression. Ella was the first to choke back her mirth and informed their new friend that lunch was waiting if she was ready.

Having realized that trying to convince the maid to let her unpack on her own was fruitless, Belle allowed them to lead her off.

"Gaspard arranged for us to take lunch on the terrace," Snow explained as they headed through one of the many open sets of glass doors. "He thought that you might enjoy the chance to see the rose gardens from here and possibly go walking in them later."

Belle's eyes went wide at the sight of the many different colors of roses stretching beyond the terrace railing, the dark green of the bushes interrupted occasionally by lighter green grass or white gravel walkways. A few fountains and statues were littered throughout as well. And beyond the gardens the lake sparkled in the sun and curved around farm land and open fields with animals grazing upon the lush grass. "Oh!" she gasped.

"It's one of my favorite views," the king quietly agreed.

She turned to find him standing by a small table, he and Thomas already helping the other three women into their chairs. Belle moved to join them, Gaspard making sure that she had a seat facing the view off the terrace.

Mrs. Potts lead a bevy of servants out to set the food on the table and take drink orders, her sharp, watchful eyes on every single one of her staff's moves, even as she spoke cheerfully with her master and guests.

"Gaspard," Snow carefully ladled herself some of the chilled soup, "if they're available, I was hoping to use a couple of your targets after lunch. Red laid out another challenge the other day and I must of course answer it."

Her best friend was smirking broadly. "As if you could do better than I," she taunted.

Emerald eyes cast drolly at her. "Let's put a throwing knife or sword in your hand and see how you do."

"Except we already agreed on archery," Red pointed out smugly.

"You two are _so_ competitive at times." Ella shook her head amusedly.

"No more so than any other pair of siblings." Gaspard grinned, lifting his glass of iced tea for a sip.

Belle couldn't quell the question that sprang to her lips. "Siblings?"

"Oh," Snow waved her hand lightly, "you'll hear the terms 'sister' and 'brother' tossed around with us and Aurora and Eric all the time."

The blonde's eyes were sparkling with humor. "No blood may bind them but they just love picking at each other like siblings and they're certainly overprotective enough of one another to call each other such."

Thomas and Belle shared a grin.

"We can certainly relate to that," the prince assured them. "Belle has been a sister to James and I most of our lives."

"And the feeling is mutual," the brunette assured him, one eyebrow raised. "Goodness knows you two hover worse than nursemaids sometimes. And Liam and Phillip are little better."

Snow's head shot up from where she'd been lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, green eyes snapping to Gaspard's blue, meeting hers over the rim of his glass.

"_Prince_ Phillip?" the king asked for clarification, setting down his drink.

"Mm," Belle nodded, sipping the cup of tea Mrs. Potts set in front of her with a "thank you" to the housekeeper.

Snow dabbed her lips with her napkin. "I haven't seen Phillip since we were children, but he was rather…"

Thomas was chuckling only halfway through the princess' statement. "Yes, Phillip can _still_ be rather…"

"Smart?" Snow offered dryly.

"That's one way to put it." He smirked. "How does Aurora feel about her betrothal to him?"

Four amused glances were exchanged by those who knew the blond princess.

"Oh, she's just _thrilled_," Red told him with faux-excitement.

He snorted. "Same with Phillip."

Belle leaned toward Snow. "James mentioned that you three knew each other as children. How did you meet?"

The princess choked on her mint lemonade.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"She looks exhausted," Gaspard murmured to Red, pulling her aside after lunch, the first real chance he'd had to speak with her privately.

The dark-haired woman grimaced. "She is." Her eyes cut to the object of their discussion.

Snow was laughing with Thomas and Belle over some story Ella was telling, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against her pale skin despite her mirth.

"She's not sleeping much, and when she does I don't think it's soundly," she continued.

"I thought seeing Prince James would help." He leaned heavily on his cane.

"Oh it _did_," Red quickly assured him. "She's _much_ happier and they settled things between them."

His eyebrows rose. "They're engaged?"

"More like…" her hazel gaze lifted skyward in thought for a moment, "engaged to be engaged." She briefly explained what James and Snow had told her about the situation, choosing to spare him certain details of what happened between the couple.

Gaspard's eyes went to Snow again. "Then why is she having trouble sleeping?"

"She misses him," Red stated simply. "And I think she's having nightmares."

His gaze snapped to her sharply. "She wouldn't admit to that."

"No, she wouldn't," she agreed. "But the way she is now reminds me a lot of how she was a few months after her mother died and she was having nightmares then."

"What should we do?"

Red shrugged. "Nothing we really _can_ do. The situation will resolve itself eventually. Either she'll find a way to sleep or the exhaustion will be too much for her body and it will force her to slow down and sleep, either by just being too tired or getting sick."

A blond eyebrow cocked at her. "Those last two don't sound particularly healthy," he commented wryly.

"Our best bet is her Prince Charming getting himself out here to visit soon." A smirk curled her lips. "And I'm pretty hopeful on that front."

Gaspard narrowed his eyes at her. "Do tell."

Her eyes met his, dancing with smug humor. "Oh, I gave him until my next transformation to get an engagement ring on Snow's finger."

His smirk matched hers. "And how did he respond to that?"

"I don't think it was too much of a hardship for him to make that promise, even without the threat," she snickered.

Laughter danced in the king's eyes. "Good."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The lake water was cool and refreshing on Ella's feet; she'd removed her shoes, leaving them on the shore, and tucked the front part of her skirts into the thin leather belt she wore to keep them from dragging in the water.

After lunch Thomas, Gaspard and Snow had disappeared into the king's study to discuss something that related to their kingdoms–promising not to take more than half an hour–Red had gone to set up the targets for her and Snow's little competition later and Belle was wandering the rose gardens at the moment. The lake had called to Ella with the siren promise of its revitalizing coolness and she'd quite willingly given in.

She bent down, mindful of her dress, and picked up another smooth flat stone from the bottom and added it to the small collection she'd started in her hand.

In the years Ella had been under her stepmother and stepsisters' control she'd never had the chance to take even one day off to relax and have fun. The dwarfs hadn't even blinked when she'd asked to take a few days to go to Rosewood, gladly agreeing even though she hadn't even been back a month since her trip to Lochdubh. With all she had gained in such a short time, a _real_ home, friends, a good job with wonderful bosses, her first real vacation since her father's death, and an incredible man who wanted her, loved her and was courting her, it all sometimes made tears well in her eyes.

She'd been living this new life so briefly but that life before almost felt like it had happened to someone else a lifetime ago. She'd been able to survive, to get by under her step-family's harsh treatment, but now, the very _idea_ of having to go back to that…she couldn't breathe. Losing everyone and everything she'd gained, she didn't think she'd survive it; after getting to see what it was like to really _live_ she couldn't go back to that existence. It just wasn't enough anymore.

Ella looked down at the rocks she'd collected in her hand and decided she had enough for now. She dug into dusty, blurry memories from hot, long ago summers where her father's laugh and voice were the music she woke and fell asleep to, trying to angle her body and arm correctly. She tossed the rock, which immediately splashed into the water and sank without skipping even once. Her eyebrows furrowed in a determined line and she tried again, to the same result.

A small stone flew past her to skip effortlessly three times across the water before sinking.

It wasn't a surprise to her when she turned to find Thomas standing behind her grinning broadly.

The blonde fisted her free hand and propped it on her hip. "Show-off."

He shrugged with a remorseless grin still on his face before pointing to her handful of rocks. "Would you like some help?"

She tilted her chin defiantly. "No, thank you. I just need to practice."

The prince did a poor job of stifling his laughter at her next three failed attempts; he finally stepped forward, catching her hand before it could fling another rock. "Here." He ignored her stubborn attempt to pull her hand free of his, gently correcting her grip on the stone. "Like this." He then guided her into the correct form, one hand still clasping hers and the other resting on her waist.

Ella decided to blame the heat in her cheeks on the air temperature, trying to focus on what he was teaching her.

Thomas worried that he was being too forward with Ella, but she wasn't protesting or pulling away and he honestly couldn't deny himself the chance to touch her and hold her close like this.

_Forget concentrating on that stupid _rock_!_ a part of her brain snapped. _Focus on _him_!_ Ella couldn't deny that having Thomas pressed so close was a rather delectable distraction. Giving in to the voice in her mind, she turned her head to watch him over her shoulder, waiting for him to notice her gaze.

It didn't take long for him to realize that her attention wasn't anywhere _near_ the stone in her hand, and to meet her blue eyes with his, searching them. "Ella, am I being too forward–"

"Thomas," she cut him off. She let the rock slip from her fingers and flipped her hand around to clasp his, pulling that arm to wrap around her, her head canting so her lips lightly brushed his. "Stop thinking so much."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You know," Red commented, drawing back the arrow on her bow, "you and I being here is rather ridiculous." She released the arrow which struck dead center of the bull's-eye.

"Nice shot," Snow commented, notching her own arrow.

"Thanks," the younger woman responded absently. "I mean, it's not like any of them are you and James."

The princess' arrow thudded into the bull's-eye, though not quite as centered as Red's; her shot made, she cast a pointed look at her best friend.

Red cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're not _really_ going to deny that you two actually _need_ a chaperone after what happened in Lochdubh, are you?"

Green eyes rolled as the ebony-haired woman drew another arrow.

A smirk spread across Red's face. "Thought as much." She notched an arrow in her bow. "Back to our two couples at hand." She drew back the bow and released for another perfect shot. "Ella's made it clear that she wants to take time to become her own woman before taking things further with Thomas and he seems content enough with that. Gaspard and Belle have only _just_ met and we both know that icebergs move faster than he does."

Snow made her shot and then lowered one end of her bow to rest on the ground, both hands clasping the top of it. "Other than the fact that I think I've been insulted more times in the last five minutes than in the last five _months_, we both know the reason we're here isn't for _them_ really." They began to unstring their bows. "Regardless of whether they _need_ us here or not, what people see from the outside is what matters, and preserving their reputations is the _only_ reason we're really here."

"I know," Red grumbled with a roll of her eyes as they retrieved their spent arrows and began to make their way to the lake, thinking to splash cool water on their faces. "But it just seems so _ridiculous _us having to be here when nothing's going to happen."

The princess was about to respond when they rounded a bend and immediately came to a dead halt, not expecting to find Ella and Thomas locked in a passionate and rather heated embrace. They then spun on their heels and went back the direction they came from.

"You were saying?" Snow asked sardonically.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

After several pleasurable minutes locked in each other's arms Ella and Thomas finally drew apart.

"Wow," he murmured, still holding her against him.

"Hmm," she agreed with a grin, eyes still closed. Her hand rose to cup the back of his neck and pull his forehead down to rest against hers. "I love you, Thomas."

He didn't think the grin that spread across his face could get any wider. "I love you too, Ella."

She drew back a bit, eyes opening to meet his. "You know that that isn't why I want to wait on getting married, right?" Her gaze was worried, fingers stroking along his cheek. "I _want_ to marry you–"

"Ella." He stopped her rambling with a finger pressed to her lips. "I know. I understand. And even though I'd love for us to get married tomorrow, I want to court you properly and for us to have a proper engagement and wedding…" He pulled her even tighter to him. "And I want it all to happen when _we_ are ready. However long it takes for _both_ of us to be ready to take those steps."

Barely restrained tears glittered in her eyes as she gazed up at him with love and gratitude. "Thomas…"

The prince brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of her face. "I love you, Ella. And you are more than worth _any_ wait to have as my wife."

There was another word hanging after "wife," they both knew it was there, but Thomas was worried that it would scare her.

So Ella said it for him. "And queen." It wasn't said eagerly or with dread, just as a simple fact.

His brow furrowed into a concerned line. "Ella…I understand if the idea…is overwhelming–"

It was her turn to stop his words with a finger pressed to his lips; once she knew he was paying attention she told him, "I knew what loving you meant from the start." Her hands smoothed over his chest. "Would it be easier if you weren't nobility, or at least if you weren't a king-to-be? Yes."

A wry smile quirked her lips. "The idea of one day being queen is rather daunting to someone who has spent most of her life as a servant." She clasped his face between her palms. "But I love you, and _you_ are more than worth it. But…" Her eyes and hands lowered to his chest again, fingers plucking at one of the buttons on his shirt, taking a deep breath. "I need to know _myself_ first; I need to truly feel strong, in order to be a good wife to you and queen to the people."

In Thomas' eyes there were few stronger than his Ella, but he knew that _she_ needed to be the one to _believe_ it before she was ready to step up, and he loved her all the more for thinking of not only him but of the people they would rule together. He took her hands in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing the backs of each finger. Her blue eyes lifted to meet his. "We have time, Ella. Whenever _we're_ ready…"

A warm smile curled her lips. "Whenever we're ready," she agreed with a nod.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Phillip listened with half an ear while his father went on and on about how the cook was refusing to make any more fried food by order of his physician. He kept saying how he should fire her, but they all knew _that_ wasn't going to happen. Wilda had been working for them since before Phillip was born; the most that King Hubert would do was bluster and puff up in indignation when she made a decree he didn't like, and she would just glare at him unimpressed.

Phillip loved the woman dearly; she'd become like a surrogate mother to him after the death of his own when he was 14, and before that had been like an aunt. No, Hubert would _never_ get rid of Wilda. And in this case Phillip felt that the cook and physician were in the right, his father _really_ needed to eat better; it set the prince's mind at ease that Wilda had now taken the matter in hand. Even though Phillip was an adult he still wasn't quite ready for his father to leave this world, goodness knew he'd like it if the man lived to bounce his grandchildren on his knee.

The prince pushed the thought of having children away, along with the spear of pain through his heart that it caused.

"So," Phillip heard the change in his father's tone and directed his full attention to the man who was leaning forward on one elbow, "how did things go in Seaborn?"

"Well," he continued to take bites between comments, "King George was a bit harder to sell on certain points than James, but we worked it out. I left a copy of the new trade agreement on your desk. They agreed to most of the things we wanted and what they asked for in return was quite reasonable."

The portly king clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Wonderful! I'll look it over after dinner." He then proceeded to ramble on about various topics as he often did, requiring no real input from his son, so he once again only paid it half a mind.

His mind wandered to his earlier thoughts of going to visit Glenbriar as a means to meet Snow White. He truly did want to meet the princess, _beyond_ curious about her. But if he was honest with himself he also wanted to finally be reintroduced to his betrothed. The prince was weary of his father's prodding to properly engage himself to Aurora, or to at least _meet_ her, and he was tired of this decision dangling over his head. However Phillip also wasn't looking forward to his father's scheming to really intensify by announcing he wanted to visit Aurora. He sighed inwardly, but that was going to happen no matter what, though, he reminded himself.

His father paused between topics to take a breath; Phillip took the opportunity to speak up before he could second-guess himself.

"Father."

Hubert was visibly surprised at his son speaking. "Yes, Son?"

He took a deep, bracing breath before saying with careful carelessness, "Could you arrange for me to visit Glenbriar next month? I believe it's time for me to meet my betrothed."

The king did a creditable impression of a fish out of water for several moments before shaking his head and, still in shock, saying, "Of course, Phillip. I'll send word to Stephan and Leah to arrange for the visit and the both of you to meet."

"Thank you, Father." Phillip went back to his dinner, ignoring the growing look of plotting on his father's face, fairly certain that he was already planning out not only the wedding but the nursery as well…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was after midnight when Belle quietly made her way through the halls of Rosewood Castle seeking out the library Gaspard had shown her that afternoon.

_The doors were already open wide and Belle's breath was stolen before she even stepped into the room._

"_Oh!" she cried, feet carrying her forward without her even thinking about it to the center of the room and spinning around trying to take in the books that lined every vertical and horizontal surface in the room save for the monstrous fireplace and the two floor-to-ceiling windows. The ceiling itself likely being one of the highest points in the castle, and books reached from the floorboards to the top of it, ladders and steps scattered around various levels to make them all accessible._

"_You like it?" There was the slightest thread of insecurity in his tone._

_She was still engrossed in trying to see everything at once, head spinning at the sheer number of books. "It's _wonderful_!" She spun to face him, face alight. "How do you ever _leave_?"_

_He chuckled, limping forward, eyes scanning the room as well. "With some difficulty."_

A smile spread across her face at the memory of that afternoon when Gaspard had sought her out in the rose gardens after his meeting with Snow and Thomas and had shown her his library. She had proceeded to flit around the room like a bird who couldn't decide which branch of berries it wanted to sample first. She was looking forward to venturing inside it again, especially after…

The smile fell from her face.

The young librarian wasn't someone used to changes in her environment, her world having always been fairly stable and rarely did she visit new places. While she'd enjoyed her time in Everland and so far in Rosewood, such abrupt changes as those she'd experienced the last few days with all the traveling had also left her feeling somewhat unbalanced and out of her depth. She could feel the nightmare-memories at the edges of her mind, like wraiths, looking for a way in. She couldn't sleep.

Belle was grateful that she was able to remember the way to the library after only being there once. Inside she could see through the windows an approaching summer thunderstorm gathering outside, lightning flashing, and much to her surprise, a fire quietly crackled in the hearth and one of the two wingback chairs in front of it already had an inhabitant.

"Good evening, Belle," Gaspard quietly greeted, setting the book he was reading in his lap.

Hugging her dressing robe tighter about her, she softly padded over to him, trying to ignore the way her pulse sped up at her name coming from his lips. "I didn't expect to find anyone else awake."

He gestured out the window. "My leg was aching with the storm coming."

A concerned frown pulled at her expression. "Is there nothing you can take to relieve the pain?"

He gave a dismissive wave of his large hand. "Medications help dull the pain a bit, but I find reading for a while helps more so, and if I cannot sleep at all it passes the time." His head canted inquiringly. "And yourself? Was there something wrong with your room?" he asked; from his tone she had the feeling that all she had to do was say the word and he would do whatever it took to correct whatever the issue might be.

"I just have a little trouble sleeping in new places." Her grip around her waist had loosened with the ease of the conversation between them. "I was going to find a book to read, loosing myself in a story always helps." She stepped closer to him. "What are you reading?"

"It is a series of books about a monk who solves murders in the small village around his monastery." He held the slim volume out to her; she accepted it, turning it over in her hands. "They've been some of my favorites since I was young."

Belle turned the book over in her hands, reading the title and opening the cover curiously. "I've never heard of these. Are they suspenseful?" Her brown eyes lifted to his blue, lowering herself in the other wingback chair a couple feet from him.

"Some," he nodded, "but mostly they're just interesting mysteries, especially seeing how he uses his knowledge of herbs and plants to solve the crimes." He nodded to the book. "That is actually the first one. Would you like to read it?"

Ever since meeting Gaspard, Belle had found her usual instincts regarding men going out the window when it came to him. Normally she would have taken the book, thanked him and hurried back to the safety of her room. But now, in this moment, she found the part of her that had, before her attack, leapt at the chance to take risks surging forward, pushing her to not revert to form. Not with him.

She bit her lip before holding the book out to him. "Would you read it to me? I'm not quite ready to return to my room."

Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he accepted it from her. "I would love that."

With a warm smile curling her lips, Belle drew her legs up under her on the chair and settled in; his deep, velvety voice wrapped around her, the sound both comforting and arousing. His cadence painted the world in the story in vivid color, bringing life to the characters and the shroud of mystery.

Gaspard knew that it probably wasn't the best idea for either of their reputations or self-restraint for them to sit so secluded like this; it was quite seductive, reading to each other in the deep of the night with little to no chance of being interrupted. But he hadn't the strength to deny her and she looked more than content curled up only a couple of feet from him.

At the end of the chapter he passed the book to her, "to rest his voice," he said, but he really just wanted to hear her read the story. Her soft, sweet tones rolled over the words, bringing light to what was a rather dark time; Gaspard dearly wished to hear her read one of Shakespeare's comedies and how her voice would play over the iambic pentameter.

They passed the book back and forth, each taking a turn reading a chapter, not noticing when the storm unleashed its fury, wind whipping the rain against the glass, thunder rolling loud enough to rattle the window panes. To them naught existed but each other and the story they shared in the warm firelight, shadows dancing outside their circle of light.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow kept her footsteps light, nearly silent, though she was fairly certain that neither party in the library would have noticed if she'd gone crashing through the halls, far too absorbed in each other. She'd thought to get a book from the library to occupy her, but–a smile played across her mouth remembering the image of Gaspard and Belle sitting together so intimately–writing a letter to Charming would probably pass the time even better.

A smirk pulled at her lips. And he'd probably be interested to know that his surrogate sister had a prospective suitor, if Thomas hadn't informed him already…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James eagerly settled at his desk with Thomas' letter. It had arrived that morning, but when he hadn't been supervising the selection of new members of the guard his father had kept him busy with matters of the kingdom and only now did the prince have time to read it.

_Dear Big Brother,_

_You can stop worrying, Belle and I arrived at Everland safely. Though, knowing you you'll continue to worry no matter what until we get back to Seaborn. And as it is, by the time you get this we'll likely be in Rosewood._

He rolled his eyes at his younger brother's teasing.

_Snow and Belle have taken to each other as if they've always been friends, which of course means that Red and Ella already adore her as well._

A grin lifted the sandy-haired prince's lips at that, glad to hear that his surrogate sister and wife-to-be liked each other so well.

_Speaking of your paramour, since she likely hasn't told you, I feel I should mention that it appears she hasn't been sleeping well._

His grin immediately turning into a frown.

_I asked Ella about it, and she said that they were fairly certain it was because she was missing you. I'd take that as a not-so-subtle hint from Red and Ella to get your butt here as soon as possible._

While he was worried for the woman he loved, he couldn't help snorting in amusement at that comment.

_Oh, and in case you're interested…_

The sentence just dripped with Thomas' faux-casual tone.

…_some Lord Willoughby was meeting with King Leopold when we first arrived; apparently he _really_ wants to marry Snow._

A scowl darkened James' expression, remembering Snow's comments about the man from the dinner the night before the Spring Ball.

_And another heads-up, apparently King Gaspard's interest in our Belle is a bit more than friendly and that interest is returned…_

Blond eyebrows shot up. Belle hadn't even _looked_ at other men since Gaston attacked her.

_He seems as hesitant to begin anything as Belle is, but they seem to really want to see where this will go and their interests are similar so they talk nearly endlessly once they get going. In those moments she's happier than I've seen her in years…_

Part of James wanted to threaten bodily harm to the young king the next time they met, but that last statement had the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips. He sighed almost resignedly. He'd best start asking Snow more about the man she considered her brother and make an effort to get to know him better.

_Thank you for not being mad at me for deserting you with Father. I cannot begin to express how much I've missed Ella and how wonderful it is to be with her again._

A fond grin lifted his mouth. "You're welcome, little brother," he whispered to the empty room.

_I hope that the time in Rosewood will give us the chance to talk more and truly settle things between us. She has agreed to attend my coronation with Snow, I want her there, but at the same time I worry that all the pomp and circumstance might scare her off._

James had a feeling that there was a _very_ slim chance of that happening, but he understood the sentiment.

_I hope that between Phillip, Liam, you and Father that the castle is still in one piece when I return. And my recommendation: If you want to _really_ frustrate Father, leave for Everland with a little notice and as soon as you can._

_Thomas_

James snorted at his brother's last comments, but certainly agreed with the idea of leaving for Everland as soon as possible. His eyes went back to the line about Snow not getting enough sleep and made a mental note to tell his parents he was leaving for Riverdon–with a visit to Everland while he was there–in less than a week.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_She was rubbing her finger raw twisting the ring around it compulsively and ceaselessly. It was after 8 o'clock; he wasn't here…he wasn't coming…_

_Footsteps crunched over the rocks behind her, Mary Margaret spun at the noise. Her heart leapt. It was him. He was here!_

"_You came," David gasped out, his labored breathing indicating that he'd run a distance._

_She grinned at him. "You sound surprised." Her green eyes took in the entirety of his expression, the softest brush of icy unease running down her spine. "In fact, you almost sound a bit disappointed."_

"_I remember."_

_Her heart dropped in her chest, falling somewhere near her knees, smile starting to falter. "Kathryn?"_

_His long legs brought him to a stop about five feet from her…it might as well have been the Grand Canyon. "Everything."_

_A vice began tightening around Mary Margaret's lungs. "And you love her?"_

"_I don't know." He looked just as confused as when he'd first awoken from the coma. "But I know I did. I remember how I felt, and…I think I have to honor that."_

_She felt like she'd been sucker punched, played a fool. "And everything that you said to me–"_

"_Is true," David immediately assured her. "I do have feelings for you. Intense feelings, feelings I-I don't quite understand." He actually sounded a bit afraid of the aforementioned feelings. Did he think it was _any_ easier for her?!_

_The knife twisted in her chest. "You're going back to her." The teary green gaze she fixed him with was full of betrayal._

"_It's the right thing to do." Mary Margaret wondered if he realized he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than her._

_Nodding her head, she swallowed hard. "The right thing to do…" there was a bitter note in her voice, "was _not_ to lead me on."_

_David's face was lined with useless guilt. "I know."_

"_So you've made your choice." Strange how _she_ didn't get any say in that decision when it affected her just as much as him, but she had to live with his decision._

_His blue eyes stared at her with such anguish and regret. "I'm sorry." He reached for her; Mary Margaret didn't think he even realized he was doing so, the action seemingly instinctive._

_She dodged his touch, raising her hands in a defensive gesture, but somehow maintaining the sad facsimile of a smile in place. "That's okay," she lied through her teeth. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be." Was it possible to still breathe when your heart had been carved from your chest?_

_Before she completely lost control over her tears, she turned and walked away from the man she'd been so sure was the love of her life. She wrapped her cardigan tighter about her, a flimsy shield against the elements and emotional beating she'd just taken._

_Her back now to him she allowed the faux-smile to disappear, her face to crumple and the tears pooling in her eyes to finally fall._

_How foolish. How silly she was, Mary Margaret inwardly scolded herself. What did she think this was? A fairy tale? No, this was the real world and devastatingly handsome men didn't leave their ethereally beautiful wives for lonely school teachers… She'd get over this... Someday…_

_Maybe if she kept repeating that to herself some miniscule part of her would start to believe it… Yeah, right…_

Snow jerked her head up from where it had been resting on her crossed arms on the writing desk. Her wide emerald eyes flew around the room in confusion, mind disjointed from the far-too-real dream. Finally placing where she was, the princess propped her elbows on the desktop and covered her tear-streaked face with her palms. Her frame was trembling violently from the emotional agony she'd felt in the dream and the utter disorientation of being snapped back to the waking world.

What the _hell_ was that?! _None_ of it made sense! Why did she think of herself as Mary Margaret? Why did she call James by his _brother's_ name?! What, by the gods, had they been _wearing_?! James' vibrant blue eyes looking at her with such pain, regret, longing and confusion while he told her he couldn't be with her but was going to be with Kathryn–his _wife_?!–whoever the hell _that_ was! The pain once again sliced through her like knives, stealing her ability to breathe.

_No!_ her mind cried out. _James would _never_ do that! He _loves_ me! _Me! _No other! He's going to marry _me_!_

Her fingers clumsily fumbled with the chain as she rushed to pull out the ring, James' ring, raising it with shaking hands so that she could see the band and reassure herself that it _was_ in fact there. Snow pressed the green gem to her lips, tears still streaming down her face. Her head fell forward as weeping rocked her body back and forth in her chair, arms wrapping around herself, desperate for even the smallest comfort.

"_Charming_," she sobbed out, barely keeping her voice low enough not to carry through the walls or door. Pleading, not sure with whom, for him to be there right then; for it to be _his_ arms wrapped around her, to have him there to listen to her and help her make sense of nightmares that felt all-too-real but made absolutely _no_ sense.

Her gaze fell to the papers haphazardly fanned across the desk, remembering why she was there in the first place once she noticed the large ink stain on the top sheet where the quill had slipped from her slack grip and was left to seep into the parchment. The black blob encroaching on her lovingly inscribed "_My Beloved Charming…_" She hadn't made it past the salutation before she'd fallen asleep, though she had no recollection of the Sandman taking her.

Without her permission her hand crumpled the ruined letter and tossed it into the waste basket while the other grabbed a rag she'd been using to wipe the ink off her fingers to clean off the leaked substance from the desktop. This done, and still without her conscious mind deciding so, her fingers pulled a fresh parchment toward her and dipped the quill in the inkpot again.

_My Beloved Charming,_

_I don't think I can ever convey how much I miss you, how nothing really feels right with you not here. I don't want to make you feel guilty or pressured, I do not write this to make you feel so. I just have to at least write it down somewhere. You may never even read this…I'll probably not send it, I don't want you to feel bad, it's not your fault. I'm not even making sense._

_The days are fine, good even. I keep busy and I'm enjoying spending time with our friends and working around the castle and village. I'm generally happy, but I'm always missing you. I'll want to tell you something, or do something with you, I'll want your opinion, or just want you to be there in a meeting where a noble is being particularly pompous and long-winded to lean over and mutter something to me, making me nearly burst out laughing, even though it would be completely inappropriate, and making all of those stuffy nobles wonder what on Earth has us so amused. But you're not there. In those frequent moments it's hard, but usually something comes along and I am distracted for a while at least._

_The nights are hell. I don't sleep much, if at all, and in the silence and solitude of the night I feel the loneliness most keenly. But it's worst when I actually _do_ sleep. I have nightmares._

Her eyes squeezed momentarily closed, trying to fight back the wave of pain and grief that remembering those night-terrors resurrected.

_Nightmares as real as the dreams we've talked about. Ones where you're dead or dying in my arms, so still; your blood staining both of our clothing and the floor beneath us and your lips so cold under mine, believing that I will never see your eyes open and look up at me again. Ones with places and things I don't recognize, calling each other names not our own and you saying that you cannot be with me. Gods, I can't breathe!_

A hand covered her eyes as tears flowed afresh and her shoulders shook with new sobs. Her palm slid down to press against her mouth, eyes staring sightlessly at the wall in front of her. Snow closed her eyes once more before finally looking back down at the outpouring of thoughts and emotions in front of her. It was raw, unfiltered, her pain naked on the page.

Goddess, she _couldn't_ send this to Charming! It would break his heart! She moved to crumple it as she'd done the other, but then stopped. Who said she had to send it? Her gaze drifted to the first paragraph about how he probably would never read it, and the only way he would was if she sent it, which she didn't have to. But, writing it seemed to be helping her cope at the moment…

After a heartbeat of indecision she once again dipped the quill in the inkpot and continued writing, letting go again, just letting her thoughts and emotions run.

_I want–no, I _need_ you so badly when I awake from those nightmares. I need you to hold me, to hear your heart beating, feel your skin warm under my fingers. To have you tell me that you love me and that you will for all eternity, that you will put this ring on my finger and we'll be together forever._

_Come for me, James. Find me. Find me like you promised you always would._

_I love you, for all eternity._

_With all my heart,_

_Your Snow_

She set the quill aside. A few stray tears still escaped occasionally down her cheeks, but she felt calmer and more in control, some of the poison of the excruciating emotional pain drawn out in writing the letter. She was about to throw it away in the waste basket, but changed her mind, she knew how nosey some of Gaspard's staff were and they'd see anything in the basket as fair game. She tucked it away in her copy of _Much Ado About Nothing_ that she'd brought with her, making a mental note to burn it once she got home.

She was even more exhausted from all the crying and emotional outpour, but she didn't really feel like risking another nightmare. She glanced out the window, finding the storm had eased to a light drizzle and seemed to be fading further with each passing moment. Snow quickly dressed in breeches, a shirt and boots and headed out to the stables to indulge in some time with Aravis, needing the mare's patience and acceptance right then desperately.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The next morning dawned bright, smelling fresh from the storm the night before. Mrs. Potts set out breakfast in a sunroom with the French doors wide open to let the breeze in.

Snow was as pleasant and talkative as usual, but Red and Gaspard knew her too well to not notice how she looked _substantially_ more tired than she had the day before and both suspected she'd been crying. But even in her exhaustion she was obviously having a good time over breakfast with her friends and the pair decided to let it slide…for now.

Cogsworth abruptly entered the room in his usual odd mixture of stride and waddle, looking rather flustered. "Master," he bowed to his king.

"Yes, Cogsworth?" Gaspard politely set down his silverware to address his majordomo.

"Prince Eric and Princess Aurora have just arrived."

Shrewd blue eyes snapped to the two dark-haired women whom he considered sisters and for a moment they tried to maintain looks of innocence…but that lasted about a second before they were both smirking broadly.

He glared. "You both have a sadistic streak."

"We just mentioned that you were having new visitors and they were quite eager to meet them," Snow countered, smirk still in place.

"That's cruel and unusual punishment."

"For you and Thomas perhaps." Red looked no more repentant than her princess. "They promised to be nice to Belle since she's new and we told them to be."

He continued to glare at the smug women across from him.

"Um…Master?" the portly servant questioned.

Gaspard rolled his eyes and waved for Cogsworth to bring their other two friends in.

Ella leaned over to her two dark-haired friends. "You guys can be down-right mean," she whispered, though humor reflected in her eyes.

"We know," they both chimed in with matching devious grins that had made many-an-appearance when they were growing up.

Their blonde friend shook her head amusedly before turning to Belle, who looked a bit ill-at-ease, with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Eric and Aurora have wicked senses of humor, much like these three," she gestured to the two dark-haired women and Gaspard, "but they are very kind and understanding."

When Cogsworth returned, stepping aside to bow the two royals through the door, they all stood and turned to greet the prince and princess as they entered.

Snow, Red, Ella and Gaspard went to embrace their two friends in greeting. Thomas hugging his cousin who took a few teasing jabs at him.

"You're all terrible," the king groused good-naturedly as he hugged Aurora.

"Would you really expect any less?" the princess pointed out and they drew apart, she and Eric now turning their attention to the two members of the party that they didn't know.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Gaspard gestured first to Thomas. "Aurora, this is Prince Thomas. Thomas, Princess Aurora."

Appropriate greetings were exchanged, Thomas felt a bit wary at the way the golden-haired princess looked him over, feeling that he was being sized up and that she was possibly plotting something.

"Aurora, Eric," the king visibly braced himself, "this is Belle of Seaborn." He completed the introduction almost reluctantly.

The brunette was a little surprised at how Aurora's eyes lit up, much like Snow's had done when they'd first met. "We're so glad to meet you. Snow and Red spoke so highly of you when they wrote." A slightly sheepish look entered her expression. "I hope it's not too much, us being here, we just wanted to meet you so very much, _and_ I was _so_ looking forward to finally being introduced to Thomas, since Ella has talked of little else."

The other blonde buried her face in her hands, mortified. "Thank you, Aurora."

"Oh, you're welcome," the princess returned, voice pure innocence, but eyes full of wicked laughter.

Eric shook his head, chuckling at Aurora's antics, before turning his attention to the librarian. "We are most pleased to meet you. Thomas and James have spoken of you often over the years."

Even though Eric was fairly close to James and Thomas, he and Belle had never met. The few times Eric had been to Seaborn was when they were all _much_ younger, and while those times were after the librarian had become friends with the princes it was long before she became involved in the palace life. Eric hadn't been back to Seaborn since, the only times the princes had seen each other in more recent years was when James and Thomas, usually along with the king and queen, had been able to visit Seaside. So there hadn't been many chances for a real introduction.

"And they you, Your Highness." Belle bobbed a curtsey, but found herself pulled out of it before she'd even completed the motion.

"Oh, please, no," Aurora quickly interrupted. "Here, among our little fellowship, we don't stand on ceremony."

The raven-haired prince nodded his agreement. "We prefer to drop titles and formalities when it's just us. Levels the sparring ground, so to speak."

Even though she was unfamiliar with Eric, Belle wasn't too uncomfortable with him, his manner was familiar, reminiscent of James and Thomas…and he kept a careful distance between them, telling her that he at least had _some_ inkling of what had happened to her. She inwardly rolled her eyes, having one of those moments where it was hard to decide if she was glad for her surrogate brothers' overprotectiveness or embarrassed by it.

Eric included Thomas in his gaze. "How's James? I haven't seen him in a couple of years." His eyes also flicked less-than-discreetly to Snow.

Her ebony curls swayed across her back as Snow shook her head, rolling her eyes; she returned to her seat, two more chairs having been added for the additions to their party. "Let's _not_ perpetuate the pretense that you all _don't_ know that James and I spent time together in Lochdubh, shall we? Especially not when there's new fodder for your nosiness…"

Red, who had been sitting down, snapped her head over to send a sharp glare at her best friend, which the princess chose to ignore entirely. Ella, meanwhile, was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her amusement at Snow getting the tables turned on their friend.

"_Really_?" A smirk danced along the line of Aurora's lips and the others had turned interested looks toward the two dark-haired women, having seen the exchange. "Do tell."

"Snow…" Red bit out from between her teeth.

"_Quid pro quo_," the princess swiftly countered her friend, before speaking again to their friends. "You of course know Liam, Thomas and Belle, and I expect that you do as well, Eric?"

The dark-haired prince nodded, a smirk growing on his face at seeing the storm brewing on Red's. "He's James' head general and oldest friend," he quickly explained to Aurora and Gaspard, though if he were a betting man he'd lay good odds that Gaspard already knew that and more.

"Indeed." Snow nodded. "Well, he's taken a rather _strong_ interest in our Red."

Positively gleeful expressions were turned on the aforementioned woman, who was glaring daggers at her princess. "All that has happened is that he asked to court me and I agreed to _try_." She gave them all a pointed look. "That is _all_."

Aurora reached across the table and over-exaggeratedly patted her hand. "Baby steps." This earned her a swat from her friend, though Red was desperately fighting a grin as she did so.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

They were thoroughly enjoying the morning with the joking and teasing that flowed freely through the group, titles not mattering among them. They had moved out to the garden where Red was cajoled into playing guitar with Snow and Gaspard singing along, surprising both the sandy-haired prince and Belle by revealing the king had not only a very good voice but also was an accomplished pianist – Snow's eyes had glittered with teasing as she said he'd have to play for them – and Aurora had pulled out her sketchbook capturing moments of the afternoon with her pencil and paper.

When Lumiere came briskly striding over to them it was around lunchtime so they assumed he was there to announce the meal. However, Gaspard knew his maître d' too well not to recognize the faintest hint of concern in the man's face.

"What is it, Lumiere?" the king questioned, brow furrowed.

"Your pardons, your majesties," he quickly sketched a bow to the royals before holding out a message in his hand…to Snow. "This just came from your stepmother."

Instantly worry flooded her expression; she had the seal open and eyes flying over the contents only seconds later, her brow furrowing deeper with each sweep of her eyes. Finally she stood, the paper crumpling thoughtlessly in her hand. "My father has fallen ill, Regina needs me home now."

Red rose as well. "I'll go with you."

"No." The princess turned to her friend. "There's no need for any of you to leave so soon. Stay the three days complete, like we planned. And besides none of the horses here will carry you."

"Snow," Gaspard's voice was edging on reproachful as he limped a couple of steps toward her, "you cannot make the trip alone."

"I can take care of myself," she countered, stubbornness gleaming in her green eyes.

"I'm fully aware of that," her "brother" assured her. "However, it will be full-dark before you reach home, which isn't a time for _anyone_ to be out on their own." He turned to his maître d'. "Lumiere."

The tall, thin man stepped forward. "Yes, Master?"

"Would you please ride with Snow back to Everland?"

"Gaspard…" she protested, though neither man heeded her.

Lumiere bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty." He immediately headed back to the palace to prepare for his journey and inform the staff to have the princess' belongings packed as well.

Snow rolled her eyes at her friend's high-handedness, but said no more on it.

"Snow," Ella had moved to stand beside her and took the princess' hand, "are you sure you don't want Red and I to return with you?"

The dark-haired woman gave the blonde a warm smile, covering her comforting grip with her other hand. "I'll be fine. You two enjoy a couple more days here."

"All right…" She allowed her grip to slacken and watched her worried friend hurry up the palace steps. Once Snow was out of sight Ella turned to Red. "Do you think she'll be all right?"

She shrugged, expression illustrating how not pleased she was with the situation, but Snow could out-stubborn a mule and wouldn't be budging on them completing their stay. "This isn't the first time her father has been ill enough that Regina called her home from something. But he's recovered in the past…"

"But he's not young," Aurora spoke up from her spot, fingers rubbing at a mark the lead had left on her hand.

The words were left hanging in the air.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

By the time Snow and Lumiere rode through the gates of Everland Castle it had indeed been full-dark for over an hour, and the princess was truthfully glad for Gaspard's insistence on his maître d' accompanying her, for she knew how foolhardy riding roads alone at night was. Apparently Regina had been watching for her return because only minutes after she'd arrived, while she was instructing servants to see to it that Lumiere had a room and a good meal, her stepmother appeared through the doors to the palace and was making her brisk way down the stairs. Snow broke away from the group, trusting them to handle everything, and met Regina half way. The queen took her hand and they rushed up the stairs side-by-side.

"What's wrong?"

The older woman's mouth was set in a thin, worried line. "You know how he'd had a cold, but seemed to be getting better?"

"Of course," Snow quickly responded, matching her stepmother's stride as they continued rapidly through the halls.

"Apparently he wasn't taking care of himself as well as we thought. He has pneumonia, his fever spiked during the night."

The raven-haired princess swallowed hard. "What does Doc say?"

She and Regina weren't close, which was fine with the both of them, and they quite often actually worked to hide things from each other, but one thing they both _never_ hid was how worried they were when it came to Leopold.

"His lungs are not in the best condition from his bout with it last year, and his age…" The queen's jaw set.

Snow needed to hear no more, she could read between the lines perfectly; her stomach clenched in fear and worry for her father.

Regina pushed the door to the king's bedchamber open quietly, trying to make as little noise and fuss as possible, not wanting to disturb her husband if he was sleeping.

Granny looked up from where she was placing a cooling, damp cloth on Leopold's forehead. "Princess." She bowed her head, a little more formality in her address than there would be among just common folk.

Snow moved to the other side of the bed, her heart squeezing in her chest at the wheeze of her father's breath. She carefully settled herself on the edge of the bed, reaching out to grasp his hand where it lay slack on the coverlet, her fingers stroked softly over the back, tracing the raised lines of the veins and wrinkles. "Oh, Father," she breathed, fighting back the tears.

She couldn't break down, she was needed more than ever right now. She eased herself with equal care back off the mattress, setting his hand down once again, and leaned down to press a loving kiss to his forehead. "Just concentrate on getting better, Father." Her voice little more than a whisper. "I love you." Snow moved away toward the door.

Her stepmother took her place for a moment before kissing his cheek and joining the princess in the hallway, closing the door behind them.

Snow knotted her hands in front of her as she faced Regina. "Shall I take over Father's duties for now?" Whenever her father was ill, hers and the older woman's hostilities were set aside, their focus on caring for Leopold and keeping the kingdom running.

"That would be best." The queen nodded, she rubbed a tired hand across her face.

The princess reached over and covered Regina's hand. "You should rest, stepmother. The staff said that you haven't had enough sleep since last night."

The taller woman nodded, her easy acquiescence revealing the depth of her weariness and concern for Leopold. "Widow Lucas said she would stay the night with him. Doc will be returning in the morning."

"I'll check in Father's office to see what meetings he has planned in the next few days." Snow twisted her fingers back and forth, not nervous about stepping in for her father, since it was just temporary and she'd done so before, but worried sick for her father.

Regina nodded slowly, casting one last glance at the king's room before heading to her own chambers.

The princess rubbed her hands up and down her arms, turning her own eyes to her father's door, debating what to do, not really wanting to go to sleep with the nightmares that would come. Finally she decided and made her way to her father's office. Might as well get to work…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Beatrix's head lifted when the door to the king's chambers opened again, a frown crossed her face at the sight of the princess standing on the threshold in her dressing robe. "Snow, what are you doing still awake?"

"Couldn't sleep." She shut the door behind her softly. "How's he doing?"

The elder woman wrung out the cooling cloth. "Fever's running high."

Snow leaned over and kissed her surrogate grandmother's cheek. "Go home and get some rest, Granny. I can sit with Father."

"_You_ are the one who should be resting, Snow." Beatrix leveled a pointed look at the dark-haired woman.

She squeezed Granny's shoulder. "You worry too much, and I couldn't possibly sleep tonight." Sad green eyes went to the man lying on the bed.

The white-haired woman pressed her lips together, obviously not liking Snow's insistence, but she stood and let the princess take her place. "Try and get some rest tomorrow," she sternly told her.

"I will," Snow assured her, though Beatrix doubted the veracity of that promise.

She watched daughter attend to father for a few moments before exiting the room.

"How is she?"

Beatrix turned at the voice behind her, a grim set to her mouth as she faced Henry. "Wearing herself out and likely to continue to do so in hopes of distracting herself enough not to fall apart."

The queen's father turned a worried gaze to the door. "That's what I feared."

"Goes for the both of us," she grumbled. "Bound and determined to do things on her own."

He placed an arm around her shoulders. "We'll just have to do what we can to help her, even if she fights us on it."

She nodded firmly, in whole-hearted agreement. It was a good thing that Snow wasn't the only one in the castle who could out-stubborn a mule.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow ran the damp cloth over her father's forehead, the labored rasp of his breathing clamping around her lungs like a vise. Her gaze roved his oh-so-familiar features, ones she knew by heart. Her parents weren't young when they had her, she hardly remembered a time when grey didn't dominate her father's hair, or when laugh lines hadn't run deep in his cheeks and the corners of his eyes.

King Leopold was a man who sought to bring happiness to all in his kingdom, even with the loss of his beloved first wife, Snow's mother, he'd soon found his way back to his smiling, laughing, pleasant self. He always looked for the best in people, trusting to a fault, and Snow had started out exactly like him, but had grown warier with time, perhaps brought on by the early loss of her mother.

"We're really worried, you know, Father." He probably couldn't hear her, or if he could likely didn't understand what she was saying, but it was soothing to her to speak as if he could. "According to Hannah, Regina hasn't slept since she found you with fever."

She swirled the cloth in the basin of water beside her, wringing it out once it was saturated and cooler. "I went down to your study and found the meetings scheduled along with all the paperwork requiring your attention. Don't worry I'll handle it all." Thin hands lifted his head slightly to dab the cloth at the back of his neck. "So much coming up in the fall with the equinox and the Riverdon coronation…"

She'd rather just forget about it all but she could hear her father's voice in her mind scolding her about not fulfilling responsibilities and insulting one of their closest neighbors and a good friend, though Snow was fairly certain Thomas would more than understand. She scrubbed her free hand over her face; honestly she welcomed all of the work, needing the distraction, needing to keep busy so that she could keep herself from dwelling on the worst-case scenario with her father.

Tears burned in her eyes; she bit down on her knuckles, squeezing her eyes shut to hold them back. Snow wasn't sure that if she let herself start crying she would be able to stop. Taking deep, slow breaths she gradually regained her composure; finally she was able to open her eyes again and return to trying to help bring her father's temperature down.

"We don't want you to worry about anything but getting well. Regina and I will make sure everything runs smoothly and all that needs doing is done. Just…" She bit her lip, swallowing back tears again before continuing, "Just…get well…_please_…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Don't worry…_

James frowned at those two words. Why did people insist on saying that when no matter what the one hearing it worried anyway, he sometimes wondered? His eyes scanned back over Snow's letter.

_Dearest Charming,_

_I wanted to write before Red or Ella did and made you worry too much. My father has pneumonia; he's _very_ ill._

Concern welled in him, knowing how much his Snow loved her father and how risky such a disease could be for a man as old as he was.

_I know you, Charming, and I know you want to come racing here and help. I want nothing more than for you to be here, but if you come it will look…strange to others. You and I both know it won't be considered proper with you not being family, and us not technically engaged._

One corner of his lips lifted slightly in wry acknowledgement of the truth in her words. They weren't related or officially engaged and if he were to suddenly show up at Everland Castle under the current circumstances it would spark a flurry of gossip. He didn't care what people said or thought about him, but he cared _very_ much about Snow and her reputation.

_I promise that while things are stressful, Regina and I are handling it._

He still let out a short laugh at that line, seeing his beloved mentioning herself and her stepmother for once united.

_Don't worry._

A grimace spread across his face once again at those two words. James let the letter drop against his bent legs where he sat in the crenel of the highest tower. One hand scrubbed over the back of his neck before falling to his side, he turned his head to look out toward Everland. She was absolutely right that every instinct he possessed demanded that he immediately rush off to her, but he also recognized her stubborn determination to stand on her own two feet. He ran a thumb along the scar on his chin, lips pressed into a line, knowing that he needed to respect Snow's wishes even though it was killing him. His blue eyes fell once more to the letter.

_I love you, Charming. Now and forever._

_With all my heart,_

_Snow_

Fingertips ran over her signature. "I love you too, Snow," he whispered to the lonely night, letting the breeze off the ocean carry his words. His eyes were once again drawn away toward his beloved's kingdom. There _had_ to be some way he could help her, comfort her, because despite her attempts to reassure him he could read the tension in her cramped writing and hasty scrawl instead of her usual flowing script.

After several minutes of consideration, most of which were after he'd come up with an idea, but was trying to decide if it was truly wise–which it probably wasn't but he couldn't let it go once it had taken hold–he briskly descended from the tower, headed to his room and sat down at his desk. A heartbeat later he was penning a response before doubt could creep in.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

After Snow's departure the party had quickly sobered. Aurora and Eric had to return to their respective homes, having only a day to visit. Ella and Red, far too worried about Snow to stay for the previously planned three days, returned to Everland the next day, quietly giving Thomas and Belle rooms for the night at the inn, knowing that Snow and Regina had their hands full enough and didn't need to worry about guests. They left the next morning since Thomas had responsibilities in Riverdon to fulfill.

Now home, Ella and Red both began helping Snow and around the castle in any way they could. Red was sharing responsibility of helping care for the ailing king, and continuing to keep the inn and pub running while her grandmother was helping at the castle. Ella split her time between her chores with the dwarfs and helping at Granny's; Henry pitched in as well, freeing Red and Granny more time to go to the castle. But the pair kept their efforts quiet, not wanting Snow to feel like she was imposing upon them in some way.

The princess wasn't a stranger to the responsibilities of running her kingdom but the nightmares had persisted and with her daily increasing worry for her father, she wasn't sleeping more than a couple hours a night. It was really starting to visibly wear on her. As such, not only were her friends doing what they could to help but the servants anticipated hers and Regina's needs where ever possible, trying to lighten the load on the royal family members. Even the nobles in the kingdom stayed away for the most part, rescheduling meetings and talks out of respect. Both women grew more anxious with each day that Leopold didn't show improvement, and although he was trying to maintain a positive outlook even Doc's expression began to take on a grim cast.

Whenever she was in the castle Red's eyes cast frequently to Snow, worrying about the princess. Even with the recent disagreement between father and daughter, Snow loved her father devotedly, and Red knew it was going to break her friend's heart when he died. As well as Snow was able to handle the duties of running the kingdom, the younger woman wondered if the princess was truly ready for the death of her father.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

She was supposed to be sleeping; at least that's what Granny told Snow to do when the older woman had insisted on sitting with the king that night. But the princess had no intent to do so, nor a real desire considering the nightmares. She didn't sneak through the halls, that would have looked suspicious in her own castle, but she did move with little to no noise, wanting to draw as little attention as possible. A dark green cape was draped over her arm, the temperature had already started to grow cooler at night with summer nearly gone; dressed in breeches, shirt, vest and riding boots she was unhindered in moving about.

The gloved fingers of her free hand pressed against where James' letter resided in the pocket of her vest, and she bit her lip in anticipation. He had asked if she wanted to meet somewhere, just for a few hours one night; Snow hadn't been able to deny the need to see her Prince Charming and immediately told him yes and where they could see each other. It had been difficult waiting the two days indicated in his response.

She only met two guards on her way out; they merely bowed to her, unfazed by her restlessness. Snow whirled the cape over her as she briskly strode across the grounds to the stables. Aravis was quick to rouse upon realizing they were going for a ride, cooperative in the tacking process and eager to get going. After double checking the bridle and girth, Snow led the mare out of the stable and through a smaller side gate so that they were less likely to be noticed.

Once outside the walls of the castle and out of view of guards the princess swung up into the saddle and urged her horse into a canter. It wasn't far, the place she'd appointed, the ride only took a few minutes before she reached the small pond that was secluded away in part of the forest. It was little used, not having any fish and the water too warm in the summer to swim in, save for the winter when it froze over solid and made for a good skating rink.

Charming was already there, her eyes easily recognizing his height and broad shoulders, even with the fur-collared cloak, from where he was standing before the pond. He turned, hearing her approach; even in the dim light of the waxing moon she could see the smile that spread across his face. When she swung down from Aravis' back he pulled her against his chest, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck, hood falling back off of her head as her lips eagerly met his. Her heart sang at his touch and scent, body relaxing in contentment to mold to his.

James allowed his hands to roam up and down her back and sides, taking in her familiar form, reveling in having her in his arms again. His nose was soon buried in her hair, breathing deeply, joy and contentment filling him as they only did with her. The morning after he received her letter in response to his recommendation for the date he'd left for Riverdon with Liam, arriving in the afternoon. He'd not told his brother or general about their meeting, not at all interested in having spectators, but he _had_ left a note on the off chance that one of them discovered him missing. He knew that odds were they'd both know by morning that _something_ had gone on this night, and Liam would be beyond pissed that James had taken off, but he could take his general's ire, if it meant he had this time with his love.

He pulled back to cradle her face in his hands, concern filling his gaze at what he saw in the moonlight. "Oh, Snow." His thumb stroked over the darkened skin just below one eye. "You look exhausted."

A dark eyebrow shot up, lips quirking in a sardonic smirk. "You're one to be calling the kettle black." Her fingertip tapped his cheek just below the dark circle under one of his own eyes.

Humor lifted the corners of his mouth slightly, though worry still colored his features. "But I'm not the one dealing with a seriously ill parent and having to run a kingdom mostly on my own." The backs of his fingers ran down her cheek. "How are you?" His cerulean gaze became pointed. "Honestly."

Snow glared at him but there was no real indignation behind it, understanding that he cared for her and was worried. Also she was also just too tired to fight him on this. She turned, prompting James to do the same, her hand curling into the crook of his elbow as they began to stroll around the edge of the pond.

"I'm…tired."

"Exhausted," he corrected.

"Again with the pot and the kettle," she quipped back.

One blond eyebrow rose. "No changing the subject."

"Red, Ella, Henry and Granny are trying to be subtle in helping me…" An emerald gaze was cast to him, full of amusement. "They aren't very good at subtlety."

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. "They just are worried for you, as are Thomas and Belle, by the way."

She pursed her lips. "Yes, they are all very good at fretting, aren't they?"

The fingers of his free hand slid between the ones that gripped his arm. "How are things with Regina?"

"Oddly enough, going quite well." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "This is one of the rare occasions when we really get along and work together well, when my father is sick."

"That's certainly helpful." He watched her closely, needing to read her expression to assure himself that she was being truthful about what was going on for her and the stress she was under.

"Mm hmm." Snow nodded in agreement. "She's dealing with all her usual responsibilities and has mostly taken over the planning for the Fall Equinox festival."

James frowned. "You're still having the festival with your father being sick?"

Her head tilted back on his shoulder to face him properly. "It's two months away. By then he should be better at least. And I'm sure we could all use the celebration."

Neither of them said it but they could hear it between the lines, that if her father _didn't_ recover he would have passed by then and after whatever the mourning period was in Everland they would certainly need some kind of celebration to lift people's spirits.

There was silence for several moments before James spoke again. "How is the kingdom?"

The small amount of tension that had crept into her frame at the reminder of her father's precarious mortality eased away again. "Good, it's nearly harvest time; I've started receiving reports so I've been working through them. A few minor disputes, though people have actually toned those down or even settled them themselves, or at least set them aside until Father recovers, not wanting to add to what Regina and I have on our plates."

"I'm surprised that at least some people don't try and take advantage of the situation," he carefully commented, not wanting to seem like he was trying to insult her people.

A smirk actually curled Snow's mouth. "Oh, they learned that lesson the first time I had to take over for my father." There was a rather smug glow in her eyes. "I'm not so easily manipulated or pressured."

James was grinning broadly at that, relieved she at least didn't have to deal with that too much. "Good."

Her head turned so that she could prop her chin on his fur-covered shoulder. "What about you? How have things been with your father?"

He let out a weary sigh. "I didn't come here to burden you with my problems; I came here to support you through yours."

She gave him a droll look. "I'm not made of glass, James, I won't break." A single fingertip rose to softly trace the scar on his chin. "And I want to support you as much as you do me." Both of her hands then slid down his arm to tangle with his fingers. "Tell me."

He gazed at their joined hands, trying to think of the best way to voice his thoughts. "Father and I…" The prince grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to work with him. Sometimes it feels like he disagrees with me just to disagree with me. He pushes and I push back." His eyes met hers. "I have never gotten along with him as well as Thomas does and David did, but since I got back it has become so much worse."

Snow pressed her cheek thoughtfully against his shoulder, the fur and velvet of his cloak soft against her skin.

"I don't know how much more I can take."

"Maybe he feels threatened."

James frowned down at his love. "_What_?"

Her head tipped back to look at him. "You discovered that he isn't your birth father, maybe he now feels threatened by that. Maybe he's afraid that he'll lose your love, your respect."

His feet halted them, staring at her dumbfounded.

She met his surprise with a level tone, "You have always been _his_ son, and now he feels like that could possibly be taken away."

"How? My birth father is dead."

"Yes, but now you know the truth and he's probably worried that you don't think of him as your father anymore."

He continued to stare at her. "I hadn't…thought of that…"

Snow grinned up at him. "Well, that's why you have me."

Chuckling, he cupped her face between his palms. "Oh, I have you for _more_ than that."

Her hands furled in his collar, reeling him in. "Hmm…good…"

Their lips pressed together, the kiss tender and passionate; their arms wrapped around each other tightly.

"We really shouldn't be caught missing come morning," James reminded her, though his grip on her didn't relax in the slightest.

She pressed her cheek against his chest. "Can we just sit here together for a while? I'm not quite ready to go back…" Her head snapped up. "Unless you need to return to Riverdon now."

His fingers splayed across her spine. "I can stay for a while yet…"

They moved over to an ancient tree that was wider than James was tall; he first settled into the cradle of mossy roots, back against the trunk. Snow followed him down, curling into his side, temple pillowed in the curve of his shoulder.

Her vivid eyes gazed up at him, a slight frown crossing her expression as her fingers rose to run along his jaw. "A beard." It was a simple statement, no opinion or question coloring it.

One of his arms had wrapped around her shoulders while the other hand had settled on her hip, he watched her closely and tried to judge what she was thinking. "I grew it to cover your more…obvious incriminating marks." Teasing colored his voice.

Her mouth twitched in humor while her digits still traced along the line of facial hair. "Understandable. How is that going?"

"They're nearly completely faded." His thumb absently traced over her hip bone.

"Hmm…" Her fingertips settled over the barely visible scar on his chin, unable to say "good" with complete honesty. Perhaps it was for the best at the moment, but that didn't mean she had to _like_ it.

James' fingers sifted through her hair by her ear, trying to surreptitiously check to see if the love bite he'd put there was still visible.

"It's just barely there." Her voice was slightly muffled from burying her face in his shoulder; she tilted her head back, eyes glittering teasingly.

He grinned sheepishly. "A little obvious?"

A smirk lifted her lips. "Just a little…and I checked yours."

"And?" His arms drew her tighter into his side.

Her nose pressed into his neck. "The one on your collarbone is nearly invisible." One of her hands went to grip his waist, cuddling into his chest.

"Am I supposed to say 'good?'"

"I didn't."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Red had convinced Granny to go home to rest, taking her grandmother's place sitting with the king, bathing his forehead and neck with cooling cloths and helping him to his side when he went into coughing fits. After one such fit he slumped back against the pillows, breathing labored; his eyes cracked open and turned to the young woman.

"Snow?" he rasped.

She debated for a moment how to handle this, unsure of how lucid the man really was, but decided to try for the truth. "No, Your Majesty, it's Redell, Widow Lucas' granddaughter."

"Oh," he breathed out weakly, eyes closing again, "yes, Katrina's daughter."

"That's right," Red nodded, pleased with his level of comprehension at least for the moment.

"Where is Snow?" His eyes had managed to open to slits, anything more seemingly too difficult in his weakened state.

The dark-haired woman wrung out the cloth and ran it over his face. "Hopefully resting, if she actually listened to Granny," under her breath she added, "which is _highly_ unlikely."

Leopold didn't catch the last part. "Ah…good…" He was silent for several moments after that; Red actually thought that he'd gone to sleep again.

"Is she avoiding me?"

She frowned. "Sire?"

"My daughter, is she avoiding me…because of what I did?" His voice was thin.

Red stared at him for several moments, mind sifting for what he meant and finally remembering the argument Snow had told her about a few days ago which had gotten pushed to the back of her mind with all that was going on. "No, Your Majesty. Snow sits with you as often as she can, but she believes that you would want her to keep the kingdom running as best she can."

"She's more than equal to it…"

She could hear the pride that threaded his frail tone. "She is." Matching pride filled her own voice.

The old man's brow furrowed. "I never meant to hurt her… I just wanted to protect her…"

Red ran the cool cloth over his forehead soothingly. "She knows."

Violent coughs racked his body and Red helped him onto his side so that he wouldn't choke, easing him back once the fit had passed again.

For several minutes all that was heard was a few softer coughs and the king's harsh breaths as he worked to recover from the fit. One of his eyes cracked open again. "You're her best friend…"

It was a statement, but Red answered anyway. "Yes, as she is mine."

"You know her…better than anyone."

She could think of one recent exception, but she wasn't about to bring him up with Snow's father. "I like to think so."

He slowly sucked in a breath. "You…you know Prince James…"

Never mind not bringing up James… "Yes, we have met and are…" Her head canted thoughtfully, as she considered what to call her relationship with the prince. "I suppose you'd call us friends…"

"You don't sound so sure." Even as ill as he was the king was able to pick up on her hesitance.

"Not for my lack of liking him," she quickly assured the monarch. "I think we just haven't had enough time in each other's company to quite make the step to really being friends."

Leopold gave a feeble nod. "Do-do you think that he truly loves her?"

Her answer was immediate and definitive. "Yes. More than anything."

"And he wouldn't hurt her?"

"He'd cut out his own heart before hurting her."

"And…other women?"

Red couldn't stop the smirk that spread across her face. "He's so in love with Snow that I don't think it even occurs to him to look at other women for anything beyond friendship. Though from what I've learned of him I don't thing taking a lover would be in his nature anyway. He strikes me more as the kind of man who will be a devoted husband and doting father."

"He makes Snow happy?"

"Happier than I have _ever_ seen her."

"Good…" His voice trailed off.

While she watched his breathing slowed and his body relaxed…

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The sun had risen over an hour ago by the time Snow was leading Aravis into the stables. She kept her stride casual, as if she _wasn't_ just returning from spending the night in her beloved's arms, hoping that those who saw her would assume she'd simply ridden out early that morning. She and James hadn't meant to fall asleep by the pond, but after they sat down against a tree curled together her body had simply refused to _not_ give in to its exhaustion, finally having Charming's comforting presence there to soothe her.

When she made it to the stables with hardly a curious glance cast her direction she breathed a sigh of relief.

She'd removed Aravis' saddle and bridle and was rubbing the mare down well when a sardonic voice from the door of the stall called, "Have a good night?"

The princess froze, head slowly turning to meet Red's cocked eyebrow, her crossed arms resting oh-so-casually on the lower door to the stall. Snow wasn't sure what to say to her friend, having a strong gut feeling that the other woman _knew_ about her rendezvous.

"So, how was James?"

Yup, she knew. The elder dark-haired woman sighed and let her gaze return to watching her hands going through the familiar motions. "Frustrated and stressed out from the issues he's having with his father. We spent the night talking and accidentally fell asleep."

A smirk curled Red's lips. "Right…_talking_, and…_sleeping_."

The princess glared pointedly at her best friend. "_Yes_, talking and sleeping, not that it's any of your business. Did we kiss? Naturally. But that's _all_." She'd finished rubbing Aravis down and with a final pat she left her mare to the oats in her feed box, and then exited the stall. The two women walked down the aisle to the doors leading outside. "We didn't even mean to fall asleep like that. We knew people would worry about us." She rubbed the edge of her cape between her fingers, frowning worriedly. "I hope that he gets back to Riverdon safely." Finally Snow turned her head to look at Red again. "How's Father?"

A smile lifted her friend's mouth. "His fever broke last night."

The princess stopped dead, her eyes wide. "Truly?"

Red had paused beside her. "You _know_ I'd never joke about such a thing."

A relieved and joyous laugh burst from Snow's lips as she nearly tackled her surrogate sister in a hug before dashing up the stairs to the castle and running the whole way to her father's room. At the door she forced herself to stop and take a deep breath, not wanting to rush in there and possibly upset the progress her father had made. Finally calm enough, she slowly opened the door, peeking in to see if he was sleeping.

Leopold was propped up in bed, Doc listening to the king's heartbeat with his stethoscope; both looked up.

A tired but genuine smile spread across her father's face. "Snow."

"Father." Relief flooded her voice as she made her way to sit on the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. His were more sluggish to fit about her and his grip was so light that it was barely there, attesting to how the illness had sapped his strength. "Red just told me that your fever broke." She sat back, taking in his nearly limp form, and while exhaustion was obvious in his face, his eyes were clear for the first time in days, no longer glazed with fever. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier, I went out for an early ride before getting to work."

His hand slid across the coverlet, fingers encountering hers, trying to cover her hand with his, but too weak to do so. Snow took his hand in hers to complete the gesture. "It's fine, I know you haven't had a moment to yourself lately, and riding helps you clear your head." His voice was raspy and little more than a whisper; a cough shook his frame, the most movement she'd seen in her father since entering his chambers. "I'll try to be out of this bed to help you and Regina in a few days."

"You'll do no such thing," Snow informed him sternly. "We're doing fine; your being out of danger will be enough of a load off our minds." Her other hand covered their clasped ones. "You just focus on getting well, Father, and let us worry about things for now." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before leaning back again and looking him in the eye. "I'm not ready to lose you yet."

At the love in her eyes and the pain that the thought of his death obvious in her tone, Leopold truly started to believe that his daughter could forgive him for what he'd done, and had possibly done so already. His fingers tightened around hers an infinitesimal amount. "I'm not going anywhere."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Well, look what the cat dragged in, Thomas."

James paused in hanging Cain's tack, rolling his eyes at Liam's mocking voice before turning to face his brother and general.

"Now, what time is it, Liam?" the other fair-haired prince asked in an equally sardonic voice.

"Oh, it's _well_ after noon," Liam said in a faux-scandalized voice. "Now, where do you think he has been?"

"Well, a certain princess lives just in the next kingdom," Thomas pointed out, pretending to contemplate what that could possibly mean, "and since the last time I recall seeing my dear brother is yesterday evening just before sunset and he could have made said kingdom by sometime last night and if he left again…oh…sometime around sunrise this morning the timing would be about right…"

James glared at both of them. "Do you two really expect me to feed your gossipy ways?" He began to head out of the stables.

"Nah." Liam shrugged. "It's actually more fun trying to imagine for ourselves." He smirked.

"Hate to burst your bubble," James' wry tone said otherwise, "but Snow and I only really talked. With all the stress she's under she needed someone to listen, and we were both so exhausted from our lives of late we fell asleep. End of story."

The general maneuvered himself in front of his prince, eyebrow raised skeptically. "And you _really_ expect me to buy that?" His gaze and tone made it clear what he was alluding to–they hadn't told Thomas about _everything_ that had happened between Snow and James in Lochdubh and the elder prince preferred to keep it that way.

James looked at the other man levelly. "I don't expect you to 'buy' anything. It is the _truth_."

Liam still didn't look convinced but he moved aside and they continued up to the palace.

"That was a _real_ risk, James," Thomas was eyeing him carefully, "for both your reputation and _hers_."

"Which is why we were keeping it a _secret_," the sandy-haired prince pointed out wryly. For all the travelling he'd done in less than two days he felt actually quite a bit better rested than he'd been in weeks.

"You two meet clandestinely _far_ too often," was Liam's opinion.

James decided to not respond to that, informing them instead, "I'll be going to Everland next week, unless something happens and Snow tells me otherwise."

Thomas cocked an eyebrow. "And what do you plan to do in the meantime?"

His brother grimaced. "Go to visit King Midas and Princess Abigail in three days to break things off, _hopefully_ without any need for our contingency plan."

The younger man winced. "Hopefully indeed…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_My dearest Charming,_

_Father's fever finally broke! I cannot convey my relief! The pneumonia was persisting so relentlessly and for so long that we thought it would take him. But Doc says that he's turned a corner and we should start seeing improvement. Though it will be a while before he can be up and about and Doc wants him to avoid spending much time outdoors this winter with how weak his lungs are. Regina and I will be handling things until Doc is satisfied that Father is well enough that he won't relapse. Hopefully with this stress now lifted things will calm down and start to return to relatively normal…_

A tired but relieved smile lifted Snow's lips; she closed her eyes a moment, taking a deep cleansing breath, before once again putting quill to paper.

_As for you waiting to visit next week, please _don't_ wait! I can't wait to see you! I have missed you so, Charming. Writing letters isn't the same as being with you, being able to talk with you, and having you close enough to hold. And a few short, stolen hours by the pond _certainly _aren't enough!_

A thoughtful frown crossed her face.

_When I went to visit with him, Father asked if you were going to be visiting soon, I told him that you were. All he said was, "Good," and he went back to sleep. I'm not quite sure what to make of it…maybe he is more accepting of the idea of us being together now. I hope so._

Her free hand closed over his ring tightly.

_I truly hope so._

She had pulled out the ring and was spinning it around her index finger.

_You probably want to also bring Liam, and if you can manage it, Thomas as well. You didn't hear it from me but Red has been missing Liam quite fiercely. Ella, I know would love to see Thomas again so soon; she's agreed to attend his coronation with me. She's nervous; we just had her first appointment with the seamstress today so that she could get her measurements for a gown fitting the occasion. Poor Lilah–our seamstress–she was trying so hard to keep her patience but Ella was as jittery as Iris, one of my bluebirds, and the _most_ excitable of them. I think Lilah is dreading the actual fittings possibly more than Ella is!_

_Oh, apparently Doc's new dishwashing machine has disappeared; supposedly no one knows where it went… It took everything in me not to burst out laughing when Ella looked at Doc with wide, innocent doe-eyes, telling him that she had "no idea where it went," and he believed her without question. So Ella is right back to doing the dishes by hand without a word of complaint and a quite satisfied smile on her face._

Snow's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

_You never got the chance to really tell me about Phillip's visit, from Red's laughing allusions from her own letters from Liam I get the feeling it was entertaining… Something about the entire archery course ending up on the roof of the stables?_

Worry suddenly creased her forehead.

_Are you sleeping any better? I know you're downplaying it; Liam is _much_ more forthcoming on that front. Have you contacted your father? I know you're frustrated with him, but do you think that the both of you can possibly work it out together? I know that you two don't get along well much of the time, but he is your father and he won't be around forever._

Green eyes were drawn toward her door, thinking of her own father who was sleeping just down the hall and how close she'd come to losing him. She knew that everyone died eventually, but she wasn't quite ready yet to let him go.

_It _is _a relief that your mother is happy for us; tell her that I also look forward to seeing her again. I have so many questions for her about you before we met as children and while you were growing up. Stop groaning, Charming._

A smile lifted her lips knowing that that part would put a grin on his face as well.

_Mikhail, Marta and Sophie have been asking when you are coming back to visit, dying to play dragon again and to hear more stories. You have gained quite the group of enthusiastic followers among the children of the village._

Snow looked back on all that she'd written, it was all things that she wanted to share with him but she'd also had to keep herself from reiterating too many times how much she'd missed him, and how much she wanted him to come back soon…preferably tomorrow. But she knew that he could have only just returned to Riverdon that afternoon, so it would be rude and impractical for him to take off again first thing the next morning… But it couldn't hurt to tell him one last time that she missed him…

The princess groaned, burying her face in her hands. Gods, she was being pathetic…she decided to blame it on the fact that, even with the good night's sleep last night, she was still living under sleep deprivation and had been for weeks and that it was obscenely late. She took a deep breath and finished the letter, forcing her tired mind to be relatively rational in writing it.

_I miss you, my Charming. I can't wait to see you again in a few days. Give my best to Thomas and Belle._

_All my love,_

_Your Snow_

Letter finished, Snow rolled it up tightly and set it on her window sill next to a bowl of seeds, knowing that Azalea would be by to pick it up in the morning. This completed she turned to face her bed, eyeing it warily, like one would a skittish colt, debating whether or not she was tired enough to chance nightmares invading her sleep.

A soft but rapid knock on her door took the decision from her hands. Lucy was standing on the other side.

A frown creased the princess' forehead, not understanding why on Earth her maid, who was a day-worker in the palace, was there in the middle of the night. "Lucy, what is it?" Her exhaustion-addled mind finally began to process how pale the other woman's face was; her saucer-sized eyes and the grief and fear mixing in her gaze.

Blood drained from Snow's own face. "Is it my father? Has something happened? Did he relapse?"

The maid swallowed thickly. "Princess…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Fate's child frowned as he watched his mother's fingers trail off the end of one thread, only straggling strands still stretching from it. He asked why that thread had ended; his mother explained that threads can't go on forever. However, she pointed to the pattern and how that thread had woven its way through it; it ending didn't mean that its importance and impact has ended with it. She told her child to watch. Fate pulled the straggling strands from the thread tight, the child watched with rapt attention as she began to twist those strands into other threads…_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

I know, I know, you guys are probably ready to kill me with that cliffhanger! XD But I couldn't help myself! I hope that the length makes up for the cliffhanger. The books Gaspard describes are based off of the Cadfael Mysteries by Ellis Peters. Now, I need to get to work on Hot Chocolate before my readers of that stage a revolt…


	18. Chapter 16: Grief T Version

Like in chapter 11 I have edited this chapter for a T version, which this is, though this time I couldn't rewrite it like I did the other, so for the most part I just deleted the more mature portion. I'm sorry it took so long to update. I posted on Twitter why, but for those who don't use Twitter I will explain here. Around month ago I recieved the news that my grandfather has cancer and was likely terminal. A few weeks later it was confirmed that he has 6 months to a year. For several weeks I didn't want to do much of anything while I was first dealing with this. I'm so grateful for my friends who have been there for me, and that my family is so supportive of each other. It took a VERY long time for me to be ready to return to this chapter. So much of me went into this chapter, thus why it was so difficult for me to edit it down as I did. I don't tend to dedicate chapters to people, but this one is dedicated to my grandfather, one of the gentlest, most loving and kindest men in the world. I thank God for the 28 years I've had with him so far and whatever more time I have.

Sassy, darlin', thank you. For everything. :-) This chapter wouldn't be here without your support.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 16: Grief**

Thomas scrawled the last flourish of his signature on a land lease then set it aside in the pile of documents he'd finished going over and endorsing. He knew that leading up to his coronation and for much of the first year of his reign this is most of what he'd be doing: reviewing, negotiating and confirming various contracts; updating antiquated laws…basically catching up on over a hundred years of paperwork.

"Your Majesty."

His head snapped up at the calm, formal voice from the doorway. "Yes, Victor?"

The butler moved forward carrying a tray. "Cook felt that you didn't eat enough for breakfast and asked that I bring you some tea, sire." He set the steaming tray down on his master's desktop.

Thomas' eyebrows had shot up and he was rather thrown by the gesture. "Thank you," he managed, stumbling slightly over his words. "I really am all right, he didn't have to…"

"It's Michael's way, sire." Victor arranged each of the items before his liege. "Best to just accept the gesture," he told the prince conspiratorially, "not to would hurt his feelings."

The fair-haired prince laughed, accepting one of the sandwiches offered to him. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I have been meaning to ask, if I may, Your Majesty: How did you like Rosewood?" Victor inquired, pouring tea into a cup.

"It's lovely." Thomas carefully balanced the cup and saucer that were handed to him. "The architecture is breathtaking and the rose gardens as beautiful as rumored to be, and the library as extensive." Laughter shone in his blue eyes. "Though Belle would be able to tell you about that better than I."

"Oh," the older man chuckled, "Mistress Belle has spoken quite extensively on the library." He set the teapot off to the side where Thomas could easily reach it to refill his cup. "And how did Mistress Ella find it?"

Thomas couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across his face at the mention of his beloved. "She had a wonderful time," his smile slipped, "though she and Red were anxious for both Snow and King Leopold and we had to cut the visit short."

The butler bowed his head solemnly. "King Leopold is a good man and Princess Snow loves him very much. I hope that he recovers."

"As do I," the prince fervently agreed.

Victor straightened again. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Majesty?"

"No, thank you, Victor."

"Very good, sire." He turned and headed to the door.

Suddenly Thomas remembered something he'd been meaning to ask his butler. "Victor, a moment!"

The butler instantly turned. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I just have a question." He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desktop before him and at his head of household's nod, continued, "You like Ella?"

"Yes, sire."

The future king continued to look at him inquiringly. "You approve of her as my wife?"

Again the butler confirmed this; if he was confused by the line of questioning he didn't show it.

"Why?" Thomas finally asked. "Most would, and will, be pushing me to marry a noble or a princess. They wouldn't see my intention to wed a commoner as appropriate, especially since this is a newly reinstated throne."

Victor seemed to consider his words for a moment. "May I speak freely, Your Majesty?"

"Please," the fair-haired man prompted emphatically.

The older man took a thoughtful step forward. "When the monarchy of this kingdom passed to the hands of Seaborn the nobility began a rapid decline. Those that didn't fall into irreparable debt married into nobility of other kingdoms and, with no court here, didn't spend any time in Riverdon other than to occasionally see to their properties here." His brown gaze was direct. "The people do not consider them truly of Riverdon, our nobility only by name." He clasped his hands behind his back. "You are already well liked and loved among the people. They know you to be a good man and that you will be a good king. They respect you. However, _you_ aren't of Riverdon."

Thomas nodded, acknowledging this truth, which had actually worried him somewhat in becoming heir to the Riverdon throne.

"Most would prefer it if the bride you took was unarguably of Riverdon. Someone who had lived here her entire life and truly knew the kingdom and people…regardless of her social stature."

Sitting back, the prince's gaze wandered across the room, understanding dawning on his face.

Seeing his liege's expression, Victor continued. "The de Barbarac family is one of the oldest in Riverdon; though not of noble blood it is a highly respected line. Auguste de Barbarac was a great man, who did much for others."

Thomas' blue eyes shot to his butler, surprised. "You knew him?"

"Yes." Victor seemed to stand even taller at the pride of the association. "When I was falsely accused of stealing from a former employer he helped clear my name and aided in securing a new position for me."

Thomas stared at the older man thoughtfully.

"The only ones who will perhaps object to your choice of bride are any nobles who have unwed daughters they'd hoped you would marry," Victor informed him with a slight grin.

The prince laughed, knowing that to be all too true.

The butler adjusted his posture, becoming the consummate serving man once more. "Is there anything else you require, sire?"

"No, thank you, Victor…for everything."

"You're welcome, Your Majesty." Victor bowed and exited the room, leaving the future king to his thoughts.

O~U~A~T

James grinned down at Snow's letter, relieved to hear that her father was on the road to recovery and _very_ happy to hear that she wanted to stick to their plan of him visiting in a week.

His smile fell, a grimace drawing across his face. Of course he'd have to get through his "visit" with Midas and Abigail first…

Pushing that thought aside, he placed the letter on his desk to respond to later and then exited his chambers to head down to lunch. Halfway down the stairs he watched as Liam led Thomas toward the informal dining room, likely having just removed him near-bodily from the study where his little brother had basically chained himself to his desk. The general was animatedly extoling the virtues of taking breaks to the younger prince who was rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

James gave a soft chuckle before calling down, "He has a point, little brother." Both men looked up as the elder prince descended the last few steps and joined them. "You have to come up for air occasionally and laugh once in a while, or you might turn into Father." His eyes widened in mock horror.

Thomas cocked a wry eyebrow. "Gods forbid."

Belle was already sitting at the small table when the three men entered the dining room. She was engrossed in the open tome at her elbow and barely cast them a smile and greeting before returning to the pages, absently eating whatever was on her plate.

One corner of James' mouth curled up in a half-grin. "How is lunch, Belle?"

"Good." She was still totally absorbed in the book.

"Think the plot could use some salt?" Liam asked with faux-innocence, thinking she wasn't paying any real attention.

"No, but I know a couple of men with extra cheese," she returned absently; after a beat she lifted her head to glare mildly at her three surrogate brothers.

The general grinned at her, unrepentant of his teasing.

Brown eyes rolled in affectionate exasperation before turning her attention to the elder prince. "Have you heard from Snow?"

James grinned as he sat down. "A letter arrived an hour ago. Her father's fever broke."

Thomas and Belle voiced their joy at the news, Liam, the only one who hadn't met the king, was still glad for Snow's sake.

Lifting his fork, James continued, "The plan is still for me to visit next week and," he took a deep, bracing breath, "see King Midas in two days."

"I spoke with Victor and Bates," Liam placed a slice of roasted chimera on his plate, inwardly wondering why the hell the cook had decided to serve the odd-tasting meat, "our things should be mostly packed by tonight and ready for us to leave tomorrow morning."

"Perfect, thanks." The prince turned his attention to his brother. "Snow asked that you might join us for the visit if possible…Ella would really like to see you again soon."

Thomas grinned broadly. "Twist my arm if you must…"

James turned his attention to Belle. "Would you like to join us as well?"

She shook her head regretfully. "There's a shipment of books coming in next week and I really should be here to accept and properly shelve them."

"Belle," Thomas wryly countered, "the books will be here when you return."

"I know Snow would love to have you visit again as well," James agreed, a smirk lifting his mouth. "And who knows, King Gaspard might decide to stop by while we're there."

She blushed brilliantly and sent him a half-hearted glare, hope evident in her eyes.

A bluebird zipped in through one of the open windows, dropping a rolled parchment in front of James and twittering at him frantically.

"Two letters in one day, she really can't wait to see you!" Liam smirked, winking at his liege.

James rolled his eyes, though something about the bluebird's manner unnerved him. He unrolled the letter, his eyes quickly taking in the few words on it.

Much to his brother and friends' surprise he abruptly shot to his feet, dropping the letter to the table. "I have to get to Everland." Without another word he bolted out of the room.

The trio watched him leave in stunned silence. Thomas reached over and snatched up the paper; Liam had gotten up and moved around the table to read over his shoulder while Belle, seated next to Thomas, leaned in closer to see it as well.

_James,_

_Henry died last night. Come immediately, Snow needs you._

_Red_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had taken off like a bat out of hell less than an hour later, Liam with him. Thomas and Belle would be leaving the next morning in the carriage, but nothing could have held James there a moment longer.

The worried prince pushed Cain much harder than was good for the animal; he mentally apologized repeatedly to his loyal steed, silently promising him the best treatment and food he'd ever received when they arrived. He and Liam made it to Everland in a little over half the time it would normally take, arriving an hour or so before sunset.

A few servants were outside when they arrived, they shouted to alert the stable hands, who came rushing out to take the horses.

"Give them both extra attention and care," the prince directed, "they've earned it."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The hands bowed and hurried to do as they were told.

When they turned to go up the stairs it was only to see Ella rushing down them as quickly as she could without falling; James sprinted to her, Liam right behind him. They met the black-clad young woman half way at which point she turned and went back up with them.

"Neil, one of the footmen, told me you were here," she told them as they dashed toward the front doors. "King Leopold is still too ill to be out of bed and Regina isn't handling much right now. Snow's trying to take care of everything because neither of them is in any condition to do so." They burst into the entrance hall. "However, neither is she. She didn't sleep last night, and you know she already hadn't been sleeping well lately. She's stressed, she's hurting…"

They had reached the kitchen door; she stopped, turning to face James. "She _needs_ to let herself mourn, to let go, but she won't when she feels like she has to manage everything herself and that she can't show such weakness when she's needed." She swallowed hard. "And…and there's…other things…"

His brow furrowed. "What other things?"

"Snow needs to tell you that."

They all turned at Red's comment. The dark-haired young woman, dressed in black like Ella, was holding the door open, looking weary, but immensely relieved at seeing James.

"I'll talk to the maids and see if their rooms are ready." The blonde spun on her heel and headed off.

"She's in here." Red tilted her head into the noisy kitchen.

James ducked inside, eyes scanning the hectic atmosphere–likely they were preparing for all of the guests coming for the funeral–searching for Snow and after excruciatingly long moments finally finding her.

She was standing at one of the counters, vigorously stirring something in a bowl, her back to him. He had never seen her dressed in dark colors before, the black of her dress was a stark contrast to her pale skin; her long hair was loosely pulled up, a few curls brushing her neck. Her back was ramrod straight, shoulders set rigidly, movements stiff and jerky. She was trying to restrain herself, hold in how she was really feeling. James' heart ached from the pain radiating from her form.

The prince ignored the looks from the staff members as he approached his love. Once he was close enough, James reached around her, his hand closing over the one white-knuckling the spoon. She froze under his touch.

James' other palm rested on her hip. "Snow," he whispered into her ear.

Her head turned, green eyes meeting blue. "Charming," she breathed, a sob catching at the back of her throat. Her forehead crumpled and she began to lean toward him but then her gaze snapped to the kitchen staff next to them, and she immediately stiffened again.

"It's ok," he murmured in her ear, understanding that she didn't feel comfortable letting them see her fall apart. He gently worked the spoon free of her grip, more than anything he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and spirit her out of there, but he respected that she wouldn't want to appear so weak. Instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked with her out, his body naturally curving around hers protectively, as if trying to shield her from all this.

The kitchen workers pretended not to notice any of this taking place; one of them nonchalantly grabbed the abandoned bowl and spoon, pulled it in front of them and began to stir the contents much more carefully than the princess had been.

Red and Liam stood back, silently watching the couple leave the room.

A relieved breath escaped her lips in a rush, she slumped forward slightly.

Liam frowned worriedly; he reached out and curled his hand around the back of her neck. "Hey, you ok?"

With a deep breath she lifted her head again to meet his gaze. "Yeah. I'm just so glad that you and James are finally here." Red patted a weary hand on his chest, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Things will get better now…" Her eyes closed again.

The frown on his face deepened. "This is more than Henry dying… What the hell happened?"

Hazel eyes lifted to his, and what he saw there did nothing to assuage the worry he was feeling.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James guided Snow through the hall, neither letting on how emotional they both were at the moment. He noticed an empty sitting room through an open door and gently pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them.

He moved to face his beloved, fingers ghosting up and down her upper arms while she hugged her middle tightly. "Snow."

Emerald eyes lifted to his, he held her gaze, not wavering even an instant.

Tears slowly filled her eyes, her lips trembling. "Charming…" A sob escaped her as she fell forward into his embrace, all but collapsing against him, counting on his strength and trusting him to catch her.

His arms were instantly wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest protectively. "I have you." His fingers sifted through her dark curls. "I have you. I'm not going anywhere."

Her arms locked around his waist; slowly her hands slid up to grasp his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as the sobs racking her form shook them both. "Why? Why didn't he…why didn't he tell us? Why did he go? Why did he have to be there? Why me? Why? Why…?" The questions spilled from her ceaselessly, most of them not making sense to him at all, some not even comprehensible through her crying.

James just held her, murmuring soothingly to her, and after a few moments moved them onto one of the couches, Snow's legs no longer supporting her. He rocked her in his arms, promising her that it would be all right, and it _would_, he swore it to himself, even if he had to _make_ it so.

He had no concept of how long they sat there, but the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, silhouetting their craggy forms, by the time Snow had calmed.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him, but less out of desperation now and more out of need for comfort.

His lips pressed against her temple. "There's nothing to apologize for. You just lost your grandfather and you're under a lot of pressure."

Her grip tightened on him momentarily. "Oh, Charming," she gasped, finally lifting her head to look at him. One arm unwound itself to trace her fingers over his features. A single tear slid down her cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb. With a watery smile she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him in love and gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you for coming." There was a catch in her voice but she managed a real, albeit tiny, smile when they leaned back to look at each other again.

A tentative tap on the door at that moment interrupted their plans to speak further.

Snow turned away from the door, trying to dry her eyes and make herself as presentable as possible. He waited until she had turned back and nodded that she was ready before calling out, "Come in!"

The door slowly opened to reveal Ella hesitantly peeking inside. James noticed how some of the tension from her shoulders eased at seeing the evidence Snow hadn't been able to erase of her tears. "Dinner is ready, your stepmother will be joining you for the meal."

"Thank you, Ella." Snow gave her friend a genuine, though subdued smile.

The blonde's responding grin was warm and relieved. "You're welcome, Snow." She stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Snow's gaze went to James again, her fingers tangling with his. "I have to go clean up."

"I should do the same," he reluctantly agreed, thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.

Snow cupped his cheek, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. "I love you," she whispered after their lips parted.

He couldn't help the smile that lifted his lips. "I love you too."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Dinner was a quiet, awkward affair. Regina hadn't said much beyond thanking James and Liam for coming to pay their respects to her father. Snow had been quiet, picking at her food and not saying much to anyone, visibly withdrawing back into the shell she'd erected before James arrived. He _hated_ seeing it, his warm, vibrant, sassy Snow so quiet and unlike herself.

She excused herself from the table early, disappearing up to her room before James could reach her after excusing himself. Reluctantly he headed up to the room that had been given to him; he removed his belt and scabbard, then his leather doublet, draping them over the back of a chair. He moved to the fireplace, bracing one hand on the mantel and staring into the flames, wishing with all his heart that he knew how to fix this for Snow.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow made her way silently through the halls, never more grateful for her habit of wandering at odd hours since no one gave her a second glance. After dinner she'd stopped by her father's room, he'd assured her, repeatedly, he was doing much better. He had then sent her to her room brooking no further argument–it was remarkable how forceful he could be even when he was still so weak–insisting she get some sleep and promising that Doc was coming in to check on him during the night.

Snow had gone to her room as told...but she didn't stay there. After changing into her nightgown, robe and slippers she'd quietly left her room, going to her Charming. Red had off-handedly informed her where her prince was staying just before Snow had entered the dining room for dinner.

Her fingers closed around the door handle, slowly twisting it and pushing the door open.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James leaned against the frame of the open balcony doors, staring out at the mountains. Clouds had settled over the peaks, hiding the tops from sight, truly making the kingdom feel like it was sheltered, closed off from the rest of the world. In the darkness of night the gray cloud cover looked black, almost as if Mother Nature too had gone into mourning for the sake of the royal family.

His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, the temperature was cooler here than back in Seaborn or Riverdon. According to what he'd been told, Everland winters tended to be colder and summers warmer than in his own kingdom, not surprising he supposed since the sea seemed to moderate the climate in Seaborn. He could feel the heat of the fire radiating across his back, a stark contrast to the colder breeze blowing through the doors.

He turned at the creak of the door to his room opening.

Snow hesitantly entered, not sure if he was asleep, but relieved to find him awake. "Charming."

What tension had settled again in his body relaxed as he turned to face her fully. "Snow." He was instantly at her side, taking her hand and pulling her the rest of the way into the room, closing the door firmly.

With no further prompting Snow stepped into his embrace, arms wrapping around him tightly. Tears quietly trickled from under her closed eyelids; James felt them slide down his neck, absorbed into the collar of his shirt. His hands ran soothingly up and down her back, murmuring words of comfort into her hair.

Sniffling, she lifted her head, pulling back far enough to look into his eyes. Her hands slid from where they were wrapped around his waist up to his chest, one curved around the back of his neck; she used her hold to draw his head down and fasten her mouth to his.

The noble part of his brain was protesting, _loudly_, that this wasn't right, that it was wrong to take advantage of her being in such a vulnerable state, though her tongue tracing over his lower lip was nearly distracting enough to completely drown out that voice. He forced himself to pull his mouth from hers, hands gripping her waist to keep her from trying to follow. "Snow, we shouldn't do this. You're mourning and–"

Her fingers pressed gently to his lips, stopping his words. "Charming." Her lower lip trembled. "You're not taking advantage of me." Her hand slipped from his mouth to settle over the scar on his chin. "I _need_ you. I need this. I need us…_please_." Her other hand applied pressure on the back of his neck to try and draw him back to her.

James searched her emerald eyes, finding them full of tears but certain, not frantic just desperately needing. He allowed his head to bend to her urging hands, though instead of matching his mouth to hers he softly brushed kisses over every other part of her face.

Snow stopped directing his mouth to hers, instead closing her eyes and absorbing his sweet, soothing gestures; occasional tears still escaped her eyes, but this was helping.

She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches, one hand sliding up his bare chest until her palm rested over his heart, feeling its steady reassuring beat. A shuddering, relieved breath escaped her. Henry's death had brought back the too-real images from the dream where she held James' bloodied body in her arms. Having his warm, strong form pressed to hers with his heartbeat thrumming under her hand was beyond comforting.

James' hands had found the belt of her dressing gown, easily undoing the knot. Snow released her hold long enough for him to brush it from her shoulders and allow it to fall to the floor in a puddle of pure white silk and lace. Even before she was entirely liberated from the robe she was leaning back into him, her lips finding the pulse point at his throat and pressing to it.

Her fingers furled in his shirt and impatiently yanked it up, desperately needing to feel his skin under hers unimpeded. With that little prompting, James raised his arms, aiding her efforts. Snow was reluctant in removing her mouth from the strong, reassuring pulse at his neck but the promise of more naked skin was tempting enough to make it worth it. He tossed the shirt aside; her pale fingers were already skimming over the tan skin of his chest, lips soon joining in the exploration.

He threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair, the other traced up and down her back gently while James remained otherwise passive, allowing her to take the lead and take from him what she needed. Her hand cupped the back of his neck guiding his head down to hers; she took possession of his mouth, kissing him deeply and thoroughly. He groaned, kissing her back, hand fisting in the back of her nightgown, drawing her even closer; her arm around his shoulders tightened in response, pressing her body against his all the more.

She let one hand trail down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, tracing the edge until she reached the fastenings, her other hand joined the first in undoing them. James stepped backward out of his breeches once they hit the floor, pulling her with him. Snow trailed her mouth from his over his jaw and down his throat to settle over his pulse again, running her tongue over it, enjoying the beat she felt there and the affirmation of his life that it was. He used his grip on her nightgown to draw it up, pulling the scrap of fabric over her head and dropping it carelessly to the floor.

Snow allowed her hands and eyes to wander over his body freely, needing the visual and tactile proof that he was with her, alive and real. That he wasn't dying on the floor in her arms, or for some reason with some other, unknown woman in a strange place where they wore strange clothing and used strange mechanical devices.

Emerald eyes lifted to blue, her lips trembling as her palms rose to cup his face between them. "Touch me."

James lowered his head, covering her lips with his, letting his hands play over her curves, fingertips trailing down the line of her spine, urging her flush against him, his kiss swallowing her moan at the contact. Her fingers dug into his muscled shoulders, she drew his lower lip into her mouth, nipping it and then running her tongue over the spot. He backed himself toward the bed bringing her with him, when the backs of his legs hit the mattress he sat down, pulling her to straddle his lap, not once breaking the connection of their mouths.

Her lips skimmed to his ear, "Hold me, _please_." Her voice wobbled a bit, the uncharacteristic vulnerability a knife through his heart.

James locked his arms around her, perhaps what might normally be too tight, but he had a feeling she needed him to hold her tighter than usual. "Always," he promised against her temple.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

They collapsed in a sweaty, panting tangle of limbs and long ebony curls.

She locked her legs locked around his waist, lips tracing his features. James let his eyes close, breathing heavily through the exhaustion creeping in and allowing himself to enjoy Snow's loving gesture. Finally her lips slid down his neck to press to the pulse in his throat, staying there. James hadn't been oblivious to the many times she would touch that pulse point or his chest, right over his heart as they made love. He thought that perhaps Henry's death had raised some fears in her of losing him, thus her preoccupation with these proofs of his being alive.

Eventually, and with great reluctance, they untangled themselves from each other long enough to crawl farther onto the bed and under the warm covers. Snow curled into his side, an arm around his waist and a leg curved over one of his in a gesture as possessive as his arms wrapped her. Her head pillowed on his chest, ear over his heart to hear it thumping reassuringly as she fell asleep.

"I love you, Snow," he murmured into her temple as he pressed a kiss.

She turned her head to kiss his chest before settling her ear over the steady beat again. "I love you too, Charming."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_She was curled up on her side on the cot, staring sightlessly across the cell._

"_Mary Margaret."_

_Her head snapped up, joy shot through her. _He was here!_ "David." She rose to her feet, moving to meet him at the door to her cell._

_He approached the cell slowly. "Emma said we could have a few minutes alone." He curled one hand around a bar. "I wanted to tell you that Dr. Hopper helped me remember what happened during my blackouts."_

_Her emotions were a clash, hope and fear. "And?"_

_David turned to take a few paces away from the bars. "Uh…I only…um…got pieces of the memory, but…" he faced her again, "we were in the woods," he glanced to the side, remembering, "and I kept saying, 'Don't do it.'"_

_She raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Don't do what?"_

"'_Don't kill her.'" He gazed at her with anguished confusion. "That's what I kept saying."_

_Mary Margaret closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. "Kathryn?" She swallowed. "You think you remember me wanting to kill Kathryn?"_

"_Can you explain why I have that memory?" he begged._

_Hurt, betrayal flared in her. "David…are you asking me if I had something to do with Kathryn's murder?"_

"_The sheriff found a heart in our spot." He approached her. "It was in your jewelry box."_

_Her heart was being torn from her chest for what felt like the dozenth time by him, she countered each of his steps forward with one back._

"_The weapon was found in your apartment."_

_She stared at him in utter agony, unable to breathe as his accusations rained down on her like physical blows._

"_I have these…these memories. So, yes, I'm asking."_

"_When your phone records came back," she sobbed, "when I found you wandering in the woods, when everyone thought you killed Kathryn, I stood by you. I never _once_ doubted you. And now that everything is pointing to me…" she stared at him disbelief, "you _actually_ think that I am capable of that kind of evil?" Tears dripped heedlessly down her face._

_David gazed at her with growing guilt and regret._

"_Get…out." Mary Margaret didn't shout, or scream, her voice was level and soaked in torment. She turned away, giving her back to him, refusing to look at him any longer, unable to take the doubt in his cerulean irises a moment longer. As she heard his footsteps fade behind her she squeezed her eyes shut… She couldn't keep doing this…_

Snow gasped, head snapping up from the pillow wide awake, her hand had shot to the other side of the mattress, heart sinking faster than a stone upon finding it empty.

"Snow?"

She sat bolt upright, head whipping around at the voice, worried that she was just imagining it. But blessedly she wasn't.

Her Charming, dressed only in breeches, was kneeling beside the fireplace stoking the fire, the light from the flames playing over his skin, casting the lines of his body in flickering shadow. She relaxed at the sight of him, absently drawing the sheet up to her chest and holding it there. Snow drank in the vision of her beloved before her, the fire painting his tan skin in an even deeper golden glow.

He rose and moved to her side, sitting down on the bed next to her, fingers running through her hair. "What's wrong?"

Snow reached out to lay her hand on his chest, letting his warmth, a touch warmer than usual from the fire, seep into her. "A bad dream." She smiled at him, her hand rising to cup the side of his face. "A bad dream, but it's over now." Her fingers stroked his cheek. "You're here." Her voice was soft as she said this, seeming part statement and part wonder at the fact.

A grin quirked his lips. "Where else could I be?"

It took her a moment to place the phrase, realizing he was quoting what she had said to him in Lochdubh upon finding him on the beach. Her mouth curled into a responding smile; she pressed it to his. "Thank you," Snow whispered against his lips.

He grinned again, kissing her once more before rising. "I'm going to add another log." James moved back to the hearth.

Snow's emerald eyes followed him, once he was crouched by the fireplace she dragged her gaze away, searching the floor around the bed. Their clothes were scattered about, the closest item Charming's shirt, she leaned over the side of the bed and picked it up off the floor. Pulling it over her head she buttoned the few buttons, which reached James' sternum but on her was almost to her navel. As she rose from bed Snow rolled up the sleeves so that they no longer covered her hands, the hem fell to a few inches above her knees.

James lifted his head when she knelt beside him; smiling warmly as she settled onto the floor, curling her legs under her. He returned her smile, prodding the fire one last time before resting the poker against the wall beside the fireplace. He lowered himself to sit as well, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to draw her into his side. He pressed his lips to her temple. "Tell me what happened," he quietly murmured against her skin.

Her eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to shut out the memories but she took a bracing breath and began.

"I had just set out the letter I sent you for Azalea to pick up in the morning…" Her gaze went to him questioningly.

He nodded. "I got it." A smile lightened his worried expression a bit. "I was happy to hear that your father was recovering."

A small smile managed to briefly grace her face. "Thank you." It slid back off, her mind returning to what she was telling him. "Just then Lucy came to my door…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_The night before…_

_All the blood drained from Snow's face. "Is it my father? Has something happened? Did he relapse?"_

_Lucy swallowed thickly. "Princess…" She was wringing her hands nearly raw. "It's not your father…it's Lord Henry…"_

_The princess' stomach dropped like a stone._

_The maid opened her mouth but no sound came out; she took a deep breath and tried again. "He-he's dead."_

_Air was sucked from Snow's lungs. "What?" she managed to gasp out._

_Lucy's face crumpled. "Lord Henry died…some time earlier this evening."_

_Snow staggered back into her room, groping around until she found something to sit down on–her bed–trying to keep from collapsing on the floor. "What…what happened?"_

_Her maid swallowed hard. "I don't know. Granny…she woke up and he was…"_

"_Have…" The princess had to close her eyes for a moment to help brace herself. "Have you…told my stepmother and father?"_

"_No."_

_Snow's head snapped up, eyes narrowed. "'No?' Why on Earth wouldn't you tell Regina that her own father–" She broke off, her mind catching up to exactly what Lucy had said. Her eyes slid shut in realization. "Oh…oh… Granny."_

_Lucy's hands were knotted together desperately. "We didn't know…we didn't know how to handle it."_

_The dark-haired princess was on her feet, pacing the room furiously, hand pressed to her mouth against the rising bile, trying to think._

"_Princess?"_

"_Give me a moment!" she snapped, temper short with the grief, stress and worry. Instantly she felt bad, her apologetic green eyes went to the maid, someone she considered a friend._

_Lucy was already shaking her head. "It's fine. What should we do?"_

_Snow pressed her palms together and then laid the matched fingers against her lips. "Henry didn't want Regina to find out at all…much less like this." She resumed pacing, though at a more measured pace, one hand propped on her hip, the other running over her mouth in deep thought. "And even if he's found elsewhere in the inn, questions will be raised, things…implied. Neither my father or stepmother need that." She rubbed her forehead, coming back to the same thought that had been nagging at her and realizing there was little other choice. Her back stiffened, breathing deeply. "We need to get him home."_

"_Princess…"_

_She turned to find that Lucy had paled, but was slowly nodding._

_Snow spared a glance for the nightclothes she was wearing. "Let me get dressed."_

_Her maid nodded and slipped out of the room, sensing that the princess wished to be left alone while changing._

_Snow stared at the door for several moments, steeling herself to do something that truly bothered her to even think about._

_With one last bracing breath she moved to her closet and began grabbing practical clothes, dressing as quickly as possible. They had a long night ahead of them._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Snow wasn't sure how Lucy had managed it but they met no one on their way out of the castle. The village was equally quiet, the roads deserted due to the late hour. Red must've been waiting for them at the door, opening it under Lucy's knocking fist. Tear tracks on her cheeks were just barely visible in the wavering light from the candle she carried._

_"Where is he?" Snow was immediately all business._

_There was the slightest tightening around Red's eyes to indicate how her best friend's briskness bothered her. However, saying nothing of it, she led the princess up to her grandmother's room._

_Granny looked up, eyes red from tears but face dry; she was sitting in a chair beside the bed, next to Henry who lay there unnaturally still. The older woman rose and moved to the door. She had to clear her throat before being able to say, "I'm sorry, Snow." She glanced back at the man on the bed, fighting back the tears once again gathering, before returning her gaze to her surrogate granddaughter. "So sorry."_

_The princess nodded stoically. "Thank you."_

_Granny's eyes narrowed for a moment, she pressed her lips together as understanding entered her gaze._

_Snow stepped into the room. "We need to move him back to his room at the castle."_

_Red and Granny's eyes met._

"_Is that really necessary?" the older woman cautiously asked._

"_Father and Regina don't need the gossip that Henry being found at the Inn would generate." Snow had her arms crossed over her chest, stance rigid._

"_I'll make sure the way is clear," Lucy calmly volunteered._

"_Thank you," the princess acknowledged over her shoulder._

_The maid curtseyed and hurried off._

_Red stepped forward, "I'll give you a hand moving him." She turned to face Snow. "There's a small wagon out back, we should be able to move it fairly easily between the three of us."_

"_That'll work." Her green eyes met the level hazel ones of her surrogate sister. "We'll carry him."_

_The younger woman compressed her lips but nodded, moving with Snow to the bed._

_Granny set her jaw. "I'll get the wagon ready."_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You moved your grandfather's body?"

Snow continued to stare into the fire but she nodded in answer to James' horrified question. "It had to be done." She closed her eyes, causing the tears pooling in them to slip down her cheeks. "I…" Her voice cracked, she swallowed; James pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her, offering what comfort he could. "I had to protect my family." His heart broke at the pain and tears in her tone.

He drew her into his lap, cradling her in his embrace; she wept into his chest bitterly. "I can certainly understand that," James murmured against the crown of her head.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Snow struggled to hide how her stomach churned as she and Red carried Henry's body through the castle. His skin was too cool to the touch and didn't feel the same as when he was alive. She kept distracting herself from the unnerving sensation and unsettling thought of what she was doing._

_Granny was a few steps ahead of them making sure that the way was clear, though Lucy had apparently been successful in her part of the mission as they hadn't met a soul. When they reached Henry's room, Granny pushed the door open and held it while the two young women carried the older man through._

_Apparently Lucy had come in before them and turned down the bed so that they could more easily and quickly get Henry into it. Regardless of the fact that they knew he was dead and couldn't feel pain they were infinitely careful and gentle as they lowered him to the bed. _

_Granny came over and helped them tuck him into the bed, using her personal experience to place him in what was his natural sleeping position. Gaze uncharacteristically soft, she then brushed his hair back off his forehead, the gesture lingering and intimate. After placing an affectionate, bittersweet kiss on his brow she stepped away._

_Snow's mind was screaming in confusion over the conflicting feelings raging inside her. Tucking someone into bed was something people did for children and the sick, to those who still lived, but her mind kept insistently reminding herself that he was, in fact, dead. Her heart rebelled, shrieking in protest. He couldn't be dead! He was her grandfather! The only grandfather she'd ever known! He was always so strong and kind, hugging her fiercely to his chest and smiling at her with eyes that twinkled undeniably with life. How could that just be gone now? It took all of her will power to ignore the war being fought between logic and emotion, between heart and mind, between the young girl who had rejoiced at finally having a grandfather and the woman who knew that the man she looked up to and loved so much would never willfully open his eyes again. She'd never see his pleasant smile as he watched others around him. See his kind eyes gazing at her with utter, absolute acceptance. Hear his familiar deep tones advising her without judgment or prejudice. His arms would never wrap around her in an encompassing, comforting embrace._

_Her heart bled inwardly while she refused to let it be seen on the outside._

_Granny and Red had been standing, watching the silent princess, who had been lost in her mind for several minutes, waiting until she slowly returned to the world outside her thoughts again._

"_We'll head back to the Inn," Granny gently told Snow, once the young woman's eyes had refocused._

"_Of course." Her voice was barely-there, slightly rough from trying to hold back her pain and tears. Her green-eyed gaze remained on the man in the bed, hands resting lightly on the quilt. "Thank you."_

_Red clenched her hands at her sides in frustrated helplessness at seeing her sister in such pain and withdrawal, while the young women's mutual grandmother gazed at Snow with compassion, grief of her own and the ache to do something to ease the young woman's pain, but knowing that she couldn't. Granny gently grasped her younger granddaughter's elbow and directed her out of the room._

_Snow's long fingers curled into the quilt, fisting tight enough for her nails to nearly tear the fabric. She sucked in several breaths, forcing back the sobs that were demanding release. No, she couldn't be found in here. She should leave _now_._

_Her other hand slowly slid across the soft quilt until it rested on the one of Henry's they'd left on top of the blanket. Oh-so tentatively her fingers curled around his palm, slipping her hand into his._

Her hands were curled into fists at her sides. "I'm not angry," she insisted stubbornly.

A larger, calloused and wrinkled hand encompassed one of her smaller, white-knuckled ones. Pain and confusion-filled emerald eyes lifted to patient, understanding chestnut eyes. There was no demand, no force in either his gaze or touch.

With the painful slowness of a blooming flower, her tight fist unfurled, haltingly turned and her fingers curled around his with equal hesitance. Once she was returning his grasp–albeit loosely and with the utmost caution–Henry's weathered hand closed about hers in a firm, steady grip. A heartbeat later the conflicted princess's hand was clinging to his desperately.

_Snow squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenched tightly. Snow had been so angry and hurting over her father re marrying and the perceived replacing of her mother. Henry, even though he'd only just met her, had sought her out in the barns and simply sat down next to her, letting her work through her emotions and supporting her as she did so. She wasn't sure he knew how much him simply holding her hand had helped._

_The hand she was holding was agonizingly cold and slack in hers. Finally she slipped her hand from the unresponsive one, slowly turning away and moving to the door. She refused to look back as she closed it behind her. Snow headed down the hall to her room where she would sleeplessly wait the hours remaining until her surrogate grandfather's body was found by his valet. The man would go to the housekeeper, who had the unhappy duty of going to inform the queen while Lucy was sent to–unnecessarily–inform a still awake Snow._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James rocked Snow back and forth in his arms on the floor, his mouth pressed into her hair, letting the pain radiating off of her wash over him, her tears trickling from his neck, where her face was pressed, down his chest, and soft sobs reverberated against his shoulder. He murmured to her ceaselessly, not having any real idea what was spilling from his lips but needing to comfort her in any way he could.

The story had tumbled from her, in turns halting and a jumbled rush of words, sobs interrupting the narrative, her fingers digging into his shoulders, hands, arms, back, wherever she was holding him at the moment, searching for purchase, needing the anchor. As she told him what had happened, slowly most of the questions that she had sobbed out earlier made sense. Her desperate pain over why he had to be at Granny's that night. Why she had to be the one to carry him back to the castle. Why she had to be the one to take care of the situation. Why he had to die. Only one question that he remembered really remained unexplained.

He lifted his head slightly so that his chin rested on the crown of her head and was able to speak clearly. "Earlier you asked 'why didn't he tell us?'" Her grip tightened. "What did you mean?"

Snow tenseed in his arms and part of him wished he could take it back or tell her to forget he asked, but she needed to get it all out. So instead he waited. Waited until she had the words.

Her hands grasping his shoulders didn't relax, but her head turned to the side until her face was no longer buried in the joint of his neck and shoulder.

"He knew he was dying…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_What?!"_

_Doc cringed slightly under Regina's incredulous gaze and Snow's one of near-betrayal._

"_His heart…" the learned dwarf hesitantly continued. "I heard the irregularity several months ago. I told him that it was dangerous; that if he took it easy he would live longer…" He swallowed thickly. "He ordered me not to tell anyone." His small hands were knotted together furtively. "As his physician I had to honor his wishes."_

"_Why?" Snow finally gasped out, her eyes turning to meet her stepmother's. "Why wouldn't he tell us?"_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Why didn't he tell us?" Snow's pleading, drenched eyes were searching his as if the answer could be divined from their cerulean depths.

"I don't know," James admitted, curling his body around hers more, wishing that he could somehow use his form to protect her from this hurt or at least absorb the pain and take it from her.

With a teary sniff she burrowed deeper into his embrace.

"Maybe," he began thoughtfully, his palm rubbing soothingly up and down her back, "he didn't want to worry you or your stepmother." His lips brushed her temple. "He knew how deeply you both cared about him and naturally he'd want to save you from the painful anticipation of losing him."

After a few heart beats she admitted, "I'm so afraid…that he didn't know–" Her throat closed up, momentarily choking off her words, she had to swallow a couple of times to clear it before she could continue. "I'm scared that he didn't know how much I loved him. How much he mattered to me."

"He knew." James' response was instantaneous, without a breath of doubt.

She lifted her eyes to his again, bottom lip trembling. "How can you be so sure?"

His hand rose to gently cup her cheek. "It was in every hug you gave him, every kiss on the cheek. Every time you turned to him for advice and help. Trusting him to give you the affection and support you required. And he loved you just as much." A grin lifted his mouth. "You could see it in the pride and love in his expression every time he referred to you as his granddaughter. In his protective care and the way he wanted your happiness so dearly, wanting it as much as he wanted Regina's."

A tear trickled from Snow's eye, a stroke of his thumb wiped it away. "He knew, Snow. And he loved you too."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

A/N: In case you're wondering, no I didn't change who died. I was deliberately being missleading in the last chapter. When I first started this story I thought it was Leopold who was going to die, but quickly realized that it didn't feel right. Henry stepped up and became rather insistent that HE was the one who was going to die. I had gotten to the part where Snow and Charming reunited when I recieved the news about my grandfather. The fact that it was Henry who died actually made it even harder to return to this. A few weeks ago I felt ready to go back to writing but the moment I opened this document I couldn't do it; I closed it pretty much immediately. It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago that I was finally able to work on this again. My emotions being as they are took me to places in my writing that I never thought I would go. This chapter, for me, went from: "ANYTHING but this!" feeling where I couldn't even look at it for weeks, to being perhaps one of the most painful but theraputic outlets for how I felt. This chapter came at both the worst moment it could but also the best. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, and the timing of this chapter is no different. As much as sometimes I still want to cry when writing about how Snow is feeling in this story right now, I'm looking forward to the next chapter and beyond. We'll be seeing the arrival of more friends in the next chapter and in the coming chapters seeing more of Regina.


	19. Chapter 16: Grief M Version

**THIS CHAPTER IS THE MATURE VERSION!**

Like in chapter 11 I have edited this chapter for a T version, but this version is the one I prefer. I'm sorry it took so long to update. I posted on Twitter why, but for those who don't use Twitter I will explain here. Around month ago I recieved the news that my grandfather has cancer and was likely terminal. A few weeks later it was confirmed that he has 6 months to a year. For several weeks I didn't want to do much of anything while I was first dealing with this. I'm so grateful for my friends who have been there for me, and that my family is so supportive of each other. It took a VERY long time for me to be ready to return to this chapter. So much of me went into this chapter. I don't tend to dedicate chapters to people, but this one is dedicated to my grandfather, one of the gentlest, most loving and kindest men in the world. I thank God for the 28 years I've had with him so far and whatever more time I have.

**Sassy**, darlin', thank you. For everything. :-) This chapter wouldn't be here without your support.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 16: Grief**

Thomas scrawled the last flourish of his signature on a land lease then set it aside in the pile of documents he'd finished going over and endorsing. He knew that leading up to his coronation and for much of the first year of his reign this is most of what he'd be doing: reviewing, negotiating and confirming various contracts; updating antiquated laws…basically catching up on over a hundred years of paperwork.

"Your Majesty."

His head snapped up at the calm, formal voice from the doorway. "Yes, Victor?"

The butler moved forward carrying a tray. "Cook felt that you didn't eat enough for breakfast and asked that I bring you some tea, sire." He set the steaming tray down on his master's desktop.

Thomas' eyebrows had shot up and he was rather thrown by the gesture. "Thank you," he managed, stumbling slightly over his words. "I really am all right, he didn't have to…"

"It's Michael's way, sire." Victor arranged each of the items before his liege. "Best to just accept the gesture," he told the prince conspiratorially, "not to would hurt his feelings."

The fair-haired prince laughed, accepting one of the sandwiches offered to him. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I have been meaning to ask, if I may, Your Majesty: How did you like Rosewood?" Victor inquired, pouring tea into a cup.

"It's lovely." Thomas carefully balanced the cup and saucer that were handed to him. "The architecture is breathtaking and the rose gardens as beautiful as rumored to be, and the library as extensive." Laughter shone in his blue eyes. "Though Belle would be able to tell you about that better than I."

"Oh," the older man chuckled, "Mistress Belle has spoken quite extensively on the library." He set the teapot off to the side where Thomas could easily reach it to refill his cup. "And how did Mistress Ella find it?"

Thomas couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across his face at the mention of his beloved. "She had a wonderful time," his smile slipped, "though she and Red were anxious for both Snow and King Leopold and we had to cut the visit short."

The butler bowed his head solemnly. "King Leopold is a good man and Princess Snow loves him very much. I hope that he recovers."

"As do I," the prince fervently agreed.

Victor straightened again. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Majesty?"

"No, thank you, Victor."

"Very good, sire." He turned and headed to the door.

Suddenly Thomas remembered something he'd been meaning to ask his butler. "Victor, a moment!"

The butler instantly turned. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I just have a question." He leaned forward, folding his hands on the desktop before him and at his head of household's nod, continued, "You like Ella?"

"Yes, sire."

The future king continued to look at him inquiringly. "You approve of her as my wife?"

Again the butler confirmed this; if he was confused by the line of questioning he didn't show it.

"Why?" Thomas finally asked. "Most would, and will, be pushing me to marry a noble or a princess. They wouldn't see my intention to wed a commoner as appropriate, especially since this is a newly reinstated throne."

Victor seemed to consider his words for a moment. "May I speak freely, Your Majesty?"

"Please," the fair-haired man prompted emphatically.

The older man took a thoughtful step forward. "When the monarchy of this kingdom passed to the hands of Seaborn the nobility began a rapid decline. Those that didn't fall into irreparable debt married into nobility of other kingdoms and, with no court here, didn't spend any time in Riverdon other than to occasionally see to their properties here." His brown gaze was direct. "The people do not consider them truly of Riverdon, our nobility only by name." He clasped his hands behind his back. "You are already well liked and loved among the people. They know you to be a good man and that you will be a good king. They respect you. However, _you_ aren't of Riverdon."

Thomas nodded, acknowledging this truth, which had actually worried him somewhat in becoming heir to the Riverdon throne.

"Most would prefer it if the bride you took was unarguably of Riverdon. Someone who had lived here her entire life and truly knew the kingdom and people…regardless of her social stature."

Sitting back, the prince's gaze wandered across the room, understanding dawning on his face.

Seeing his liege's expression, Victor continued. "The de Barbarac family is one of the oldest in Riverdon; though not of noble blood it is a highly respected line. Auguste de Barbarac was a great man, who did much for others."

Thomas' blue eyes shot to his butler, surprised. "You knew him?"

"Yes." Victor seemed to stand even taller at the pride of the association. "When I was falsely accused of stealing from a former employer he helped clear my name and aided in securing a new position for me."

Thomas stared at the older man thoughtfully.

"The only ones who will perhaps object to your choice of bride are any nobles who have unwed daughters they'd hoped you would marry," Victor informed him with a slight grin.

The prince laughed, knowing that to be all too true.

The butler adjusted his posture, becoming the consummate serving man once more. "Is there anything else you require, sire?"

"No, thank you, Victor…for everything."

"You're welcome, Your Majesty." Victor bowed and exited the room, leaving the future king to his thoughts.

O~U~A~T

James grinned down at Snow's letter, relieved to hear that her father was on the road to recovery and _very_ happy to hear that she wanted to stick to their plan of him visiting in a week.

His smile fell, a grimace drawing across his face. Of course he'd have to get through his "visit" with Midas and Abigail first…

Pushing that thought aside, he placed the letter on his desk to respond to later and then exited his chambers to head down to lunch. Halfway down the stairs he watched as Liam led Thomas toward the informal dining room, likely having just removed him near-bodily from the study where his little brother had basically chained himself to his desk. The general was animatedly extoling the virtues of taking breaks to the younger prince who was rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

James gave a soft chuckle before calling down, "He has a point, little brother." Both men looked up as the elder prince descended the last few steps and joined them. "You have to come up for air occasionally and laugh once in a while, or you might turn into Father." His eyes widened in mock horror.

Thomas cocked a wry eyebrow. "Gods forbid."

Belle was already sitting at the small table when the three men entered the dining room. She was engrossed in the open tome at her elbow and barely cast them a smile and greeting before returning to the pages, absently eating whatever was on her plate.

One corner of James' mouth curled up in a half-grin. "How is lunch, Belle?"

"Good." She was still totally absorbed in the book.

"Think the plot could use some salt?" Liam asked with faux-innocence, thinking she wasn't paying any real attention.

"No, but I know a couple of men with extra cheese," she returned absently; after a beat she lifted her head to glare mildly at her three surrogate brothers.

The general grinned at her, unrepentant of his teasing.

Brown eyes rolled in affectionate exasperation before turning her attention to the elder prince. "Have you heard from Snow?"

James grinned as he sat down. "A letter arrived an hour ago. Her father's fever broke."

Thomas and Belle voiced their joy at the news, Liam, the only one who hadn't met the king, was still glad for Snow's sake.

Lifting his fork, James continued, "The plan is still for me to visit next week and," he took a deep, bracing breath, "see King Midas in two days."

"I spoke with Victor and Bates," Liam placed a slice of roasted chimera on his plate, inwardly wondering why the hell the cook had decided to serve the odd-tasting meat, "our things should be mostly packed by tonight and ready for us to leave tomorrow morning."

"Perfect, thanks." The prince turned his attention to his brother. "Snow asked that you might join us for the visit if possible…Ella would really like to see you again soon."

Thomas grinned broadly. "Twist my arm if you must…"

James turned his attention to Belle. "Would you like to join us as well?"

She shook her head regretfully. "There's a shipment of books coming in next week and I really should be here to accept and properly shelve them."

"Belle," Thomas wryly countered, "the books will be here when you return."

"I know Snow would love to have you visit again as well," James agreed, a smirk lifting his mouth. "And who knows, King Gaspard might decide to stop by while we're there."

She blushed brilliantly and sent him a half-hearted glare, hope evident in her eyes.

A bluebird zipped in through one of the open windows, dropping a rolled parchment in front of James and twittering at him frantically.

"Two letters in one day, she really can't wait to see you!" Liam smirked, winking at his liege.

James rolled his eyes, though something about the bluebird's manner unnerved him. He unrolled the letter, his eyes quickly taking in the few words on it.

Much to his brother and friends' surprise he abruptly shot to his feet, dropping the letter to the table. "I have to get to Everland." Without another word he bolted out of the room.

The trio watched him leave in stunned silence. Thomas reached over and snatched up the paper; Liam had gotten up and moved around the table to read over his shoulder while Belle, seated next to Thomas, leaned in closer to see it as well.

_James,_

_Henry died last night. Come immediately, Snow needs you._

_Red_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had taken off like a bat out of hell less than an hour later, Liam with him. Thomas and Belle would be leaving the next morning in the carriage, but nothing could have held James there a moment longer.

The worried prince pushed Cain much harder than was good for the animal; he mentally apologized repeatedly to his loyal steed, silently promising him the best treatment and food he'd ever received when they arrived. He and Liam made it to Everland in a little over half the time it would normally take, arriving an hour or so before sunset.

A few servants were outside when they arrived, they shouted to alert the stable hands, who came rushing out to take the horses.

"Give them both extra attention and care," the prince directed, "they've earned it."

"Of course, Your Majesty." The hands bowed and hurried to do as they were told.

When they turned to go up the stairs it was only to see Ella rushing down them as quickly as she could without falling; James sprinted to her, Liam right behind him. They met the black-clad young woman half way at which point she turned and went back up with them.

"Neil, one of the footmen, told me you were here," she told them as they dashed toward the front doors. "King Leopold is still too ill to be out of bed and Regina isn't handling much right now. Snow's trying to take care of everything because neither of them is in any condition to do so." They burst into the entrance hall. "However, neither is she. She didn't sleep last night, and you know she already hadn't been sleeping well lately. She's stressed, she's hurting…"

They had reached the kitchen door; she stopped, turning to face James. "She _needs_ to let herself mourn, to let go, but she won't when she feels like she has to manage everything herself and that she can't show such weakness when she's needed." She swallowed hard. "And…and there's…other things…"

His brow furrowed. "What other things?"

"Snow needs to tell you that."

They all turned at Red's comment. The dark-haired young woman, dressed in black like Ella, was holding the door open, looking weary, but immensely relieved at seeing James.

"I'll talk to the maids and see if their rooms are ready." The blonde spun on her heel and headed off.

"She's in here." Red tilted her head into the noisy kitchen.

James ducked inside, eyes scanning the hectic atmosphere–likely they were preparing for all of the guests coming for the funeral–searching for Snow and after excruciatingly long moments finally finding her.

She was standing at one of the counters, vigorously stirring something in a bowl, her back to him. He had never seen her dressed in dark colors before, the black of her dress was a stark contrast to her pale skin; her long hair was loosely pulled up, a few curls brushing her neck. Her back was ramrod straight, shoulders set rigidly, movements stiff and jerky. She was trying to restrain herself, hold in how she was really feeling. James' heart ached from the pain radiating from her form.

The prince ignored the looks from the staff members as he approached his love. Once he was close enough, James reached around her, his hand closing over the one white-knuckling the spoon. She froze under his touch.

James' other palm rested on her hip. "Snow," he whispered into her ear.

Her head turned, green eyes meeting blue. "Charming," she breathed, a sob catching at the back of her throat. Her forehead crumpled and she began to lean toward him but then her gaze snapped to the kitchen staff next to them, and she immediately stiffened again.

"It's ok," he murmured in her ear, understanding that she didn't feel comfortable letting them see her fall apart. He gently worked the spoon free of her grip, more than anything he wanted to sweep her up in his arms and spirit her out of there, but he respected that she wouldn't want to appear so weak. Instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked with her out, his body naturally curving around hers protectively, as if trying to shield her from all this.

The kitchen workers pretended not to notice any of this taking place; one of them nonchalantly grabbed the abandoned bowl and spoon, pulled it in front of them and began to stir the contents much more carefully than the princess had been.

Red and Liam stood back, silently watching the couple leave the room.

A relieved breath escaped her lips in a rush, she slumped forward slightly.

Liam frowned worriedly; he reached out and curled his hand around the back of her neck. "Hey, you ok?"

With a deep breath she lifted her head again to meet his gaze. "Yeah. I'm just so glad that you and James are finally here." Red patted a weary hand on his chest, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Things will get better now…" Her eyes closed again.

The frown on his face deepened. "This is more than Henry dying… What the hell happened?"

Hazel eyes lifted to his, and what he saw there did nothing to assuage the worry he was feeling.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James guided Snow through the hall, neither letting on how emotional they both were at the moment. He noticed an empty sitting room through an open door and gently pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them.

He moved to face his beloved, fingers ghosting up and down her upper arms while she hugged her middle tightly. "Snow."

Emerald eyes lifted to his, he held her gaze, not wavering even an instant.

Tears slowly filled her eyes, her lips trembling. "Charming…" A sob escaped her as she fell forward into his embrace, all but collapsing against him, counting on his strength and trusting him to catch her.

His arms were instantly wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest protectively. "I have you." His fingers sifted through her dark curls. "I have you. I'm not going anywhere."

Her arms locked around his waist; slowly her hands slid up to grasp his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as the sobs racking her form shook them both. "Why? Why didn't he…why didn't he tell us? Why did he go? Why did he have to be there? Why me? Why? Why…?" The questions spilled from her ceaselessly, most of them not making sense to him at all, some not even comprehensible through her crying.

James just held her, murmuring soothingly to her, and after a few moments moved them onto one of the couches, Snow's legs no longer supporting her. He rocked her in his arms, promising her that it would be all right, and it _would_, he swore it to himself, even if he had to _make_ it so.

He had no concept of how long they sat there, but the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, silhouetting their craggy forms, by the time Snow had calmed.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him, but less out of desperation now and more out of need for comfort.

His lips pressed against her temple. "There's nothing to apologize for. You just lost your grandfather and you're under a lot of pressure."

Her grip tightened on him momentarily. "Oh, Charming," she gasped, finally lifting her head to look at him. One arm unwound itself to trace her fingers over his features. A single tear slid down her cheek, he wiped it away with his thumb. With a watery smile she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him in love and gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you for coming." There was a catch in her voice but she managed a real, albeit tiny, smile when they leaned back to look at each other again.

A tentative tap on the door at that moment interrupted their plans to speak further.

Snow turned away from the door, trying to dry her eyes and make herself as presentable as possible. He waited until she had turned back and nodded that she was ready before calling out, "Come in!"

The door slowly opened to reveal Ella hesitantly peeking inside. James noticed how some of the tension from her shoulders eased at seeing the evidence Snow hadn't been able to erase of her tears. "Dinner is ready, your stepmother will be joining you for the meal."

"Thank you, Ella." Snow gave her friend a genuine, though subdued smile.

The blonde's responding grin was warm and relieved. "You're welcome, Snow." She stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Snow's gaze went to James again, her fingers tangling with his. "I have to go clean up."

"I should do the same," he reluctantly agreed, thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.

Snow cupped his cheek, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. "I love you," she whispered after their lips parted.

He couldn't help the smile that lifted his lips. "I love you too."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Dinner was a quiet, awkward affair. Regina hadn't said much beyond thanking James and Liam for coming to pay their respects to her father. Snow had been quiet, picking at her food and not saying much to anyone, visibly withdrawing back into the shell she'd erected before James arrived. He _hated_ seeing it, his warm, vibrant, sassy Snow so quiet and unlike herself.

She excused herself from the table early, disappearing up to her room before James could reach her after excusing himself. Reluctantly he headed up to the room that had been given to him; he removed his belt and scabbard, then his leather doublet, draping them over the back of a chair. He moved to the fireplace, bracing one hand on the mantel and staring into the flames, wishing with all his heart that he knew how to fix this for Snow.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow made her way silently through the halls, never more grateful for her habit of wandering at odd hours since no one gave her a second glance. After dinner she'd stopped by her father's room, he'd assured her, repeatedly, he was doing much better. He had then sent her to her room brooking no further argument–it was remarkable how forceful he could be even when he was still so weak–insisting she get some sleep and promising that Doc was coming in to check on him during the night.

Snow had gone to her room as told...but she didn't stay there. After changing into her nightgown, robe and slippers she'd quietly left her room, going to her Charming. Red had off-handedly informed her where her prince was staying just before Snow had entered the dining room for dinner.

Her fingers closed around the door handle, slowly twisting it and pushing the door open.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James leaned against the frame of the open balcony doors, staring out at the mountains. Clouds had settled over the peaks, hiding the tops from sight, truly making the kingdom feel like it was sheltered, closed off from the rest of the world. In the darkness of night the gray cloud cover looked black, almost as if Mother Nature too had gone into mourning for the sake of the royal family.

His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, the temperature was cooler here than back in Seaborn or Riverdon. According to what he'd been told, Everland winters tended to be colder and summers warmer than in his own kingdom, not surprising he supposed since the sea seemed to moderate the climate in Seaborn. He could feel the heat of the fire radiating across his back, a stark contrast to the colder breeze blowing through the doors.

He turned at the creak of the door to his room opening.

Snow hesitantly entered, not sure if he was asleep, but relieved to find him awake. "Charming."

What tension had settled again in his body relaxed as he turned to face her fully. "Snow." He was instantly at her side, taking her hand and pulling her the rest of the way into the room, closing the door firmly.

With no further prompting Snow stepped into his embrace, arms wrapping around him tightly. Tears quietly trickled from under her closed eyelids; James felt them slide down his neck, absorbed into the collar of his shirt. His hands ran soothingly up and down her back, murmuring words of comfort into her hair.

Sniffling, she lifted her head, pulling back far enough to look into his eyes. Her hands slid from where they were wrapped around his waist up to his chest, one curved around the back of his neck; she used her hold to draw his head down and fasten her mouth to his.

The noble part of his brain was protesting, _loudly_, that this wasn't right, that it was wrong to take advantage of her being in such a vulnerable state, though her tongue tracing over his lower lip was nearly distracting enough to completely drown out that voice. He forced himself to pull his mouth from hers, hands gripping her waist to keep her from trying to follow. "Snow, we shouldn't do this. You're mourning and–"

Her fingers pressed gently to his lips, stopping his words. "Charming." Her lower lip trembled. "You're not taking advantage of me." Her hand slipped from his mouth to settle over the scar on his chin. "I _need_ you. I need this. I need us…_please_." Her other hand applied pressure on the back of his neck to try and draw him back to her.

James searched her emerald eyes, finding them full of tears but certain, not frantic just desperately needing. He allowed his head to bend to her urging hands, though instead of matching his mouth to hers he softly brushed kisses over every other part of her face.

Snow stopped directing his mouth to hers, instead closing her eyes and absorbing his sweet, soothing gestures; occasional tears still escaped her eyes, but this was helping.

She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches, one hand sliding up his bare chest until her palm rested over his heart, feeling its steady reassuring beat. A shuddering, relieved breath escaped her. Henry's death had brought back the too-real images from the dream where she held James' bloodied body in her arms. Having his warm, strong form pressed to hers with his heartbeat thrumming under her hand was beyond comforting.

James' hands had found the belt of her dressing gown, easily undoing the knot. Snow released her hold long enough for him to brush it from her shoulders and allow it to fall to the floor in a puddle of pure white silk and lace. Even before she was entirely liberated from the robe she was leaning back into him, her lips finding the pulse point at his throat and pressing to it.

Her fingers furled in his shirt and impatiently yanked it up, desperately needing to feel his skin under hers unimpeded. With that little prompting, James raised his arms, aiding her efforts. Snow was reluctant in removing her mouth from the strong, reassuring pulse at his neck but the promise of more naked skin was tempting enough to make it worth it. He tossed the shirt aside; her pale fingers were already skimming over the tan skin of his chest, lips soon joining in the exploration.

He threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair, the other traced up and down her back gently while James remained otherwise passive, allowing her to take the lead and take from him what she needed. Her hand cupped the back of his neck guiding his head down to hers; she took possession of his mouth, kissing him deeply and thoroughly. He groaned, kissing her back, hand fisting in the back of her nightgown, drawing her even closer; her arm around his shoulders tightened in response, pressing her body against his all the more.

She let one hand trail down his chest to the waistband of his breeches, tracing the edge until she reached the fastenings, her other hand joined the first in undoing them. James stepped backward out of his breeches once they hit the floor, pulling her with him. Snow trailed her mouth from his over his jaw and down his throat to settle over his pulse again, running her tongue over it, enjoying the beat she felt there and the affirmation of his life that it was. He used his grip on her nightgown to draw it up, pulling the scrap of fabric over her head and dropping it carelessly to the floor.

Snow allowed her hands and eyes to wander over his body freely, needing the visual and tactile proof that he was with her, alive and real. That he wasn't dying on the floor in her arms, or for some reason with some other, unknown woman in a strange place where they wore strange clothing and used strange mechanical devices.

Emerald eyes lifted to blue, her lips trembling as her palms rose to cup his face between them. "Touch me."

James lowered his head, covering her lips with his, letting his hands play over her curves, fingertips trailing down the line of her spine, urging her flush against him, his kiss swallowing her moan at the contact. Her fingers dug into his muscled shoulders, she drew his lower lip into her mouth, nipping it and then running her tongue over the spot. He backed himself toward the bed bringing her with him, when the backs of his legs hit the mattress he sat down, pulling her to straddle his lap, not once breaking the connection of their mouths.

Her lips skimmed to his ear, "Hold me, _please_." Her voice wobbled a bit, the uncharacteristic vulnerability a knife through his heart.

James locked his arms around her, perhaps what might normally be too tight, but he had a feeling she needed him to hold her tighter than usual. "Always," he promised against her temple.

Snow squeezed her eyes shut, face pressed into his neck so that she could feel his pulse again. One hand tunneled into the hair at his nape. She inhaled deeply, drawing in his scent, woodsy, masculine and soothing, _her_ Charming. She pressed her open mouth to his shoulder, sucking on the skin and nipping at it, tasting salt and remnants of soap, and a flavor that was uniquely him. It drew a pained groan from him, arms tightening around her.

She drew her teeth up his throat, nipping lightly at his jaw and chin, before brushing her lips against his teasingly. Unable to help himself, James cupped the back of her head, holding her still for him to latch onto her mouth, kissing her deeply. Snow sighed contentedly into the kiss, fingers caressing his cheeks. She met his tongue with her own, returning the kiss passionately, hips rolling against his purposefully.

"Snow," he growled into her mouth. Feeling her lips curve into a smile against his, his arm constricted around her waist.

In response her tongue teasingly traced the inside of his upper lip.

He was only human and there was only so much of this particular torture he could take before retaliating. His hand slid from her hair down to cup her breast, thumb circling the nipple and garnering a satisfying moan. While she was distracted by the kiss and his ministrations, his other hand stealthily moved from where it was wrapped around her waist to between their bodies.

His fingers sliding through the folds of her core jolted Snow into awareness; her head jerked back from his, a gasp tearing through her lips, her hand instinctively shooting down to wrap around his wrist. "James…"

The prince didn't stop his teasing exploration of the hot slick flesh, hooded eyes watching her expression closely, seeing the initial shock at the intimate touch fade and her eyes slide closed as she moaned. He had never touched her like this when they made love before in Lochdubh, but somehow he knew exactly what to do that would have her burning in his arms. Her hand still gripped his wrist, but she made no move to push it away, in fact her hold tightened, as if afraid he would pull away, her hips instinctively rocking against his digits in encouragement.

James watched each flicker of emotion on her face, slipping one finger inside her, the others still playing over every sensitive inch of her. Her head fell back with a breathless cry, his hand that had been massaging her breast snaked around her waist to keep her from falling backward.

Snow couldn't stop her body from grinding against his hand, seeking even more friction. Some small corner of her mind that was easily ignored protested that she was acting like a wanton, not at all proper for a princess, even when she already was breaking rules by sleeping with a man not her official fiancé or husband. But she didn't care, couldn't care, didn't _want_ to care. Not when this felt so good, so right. Not when he was making her feel more alive than she'd felt in far too long. And not when she was again having the nagging sense that this wasn't something new, that even though she couldn't remember it, Charming _had_ touched her like this before. They had done this before. _Many _times.

James withdrew his fingers from her, drawing a whimper of protest from his love at the loss of contact. Her hand tried to direct his back to where it had been but he resisted, she tried to press against his erection looking for some relief, but his other arm, locked around her waist, held her back.

"Charming…"she growled through her teeth in frustration, fingernails digging into his shoulder in punishment of his teasing her.

A half grin spread across his lips, enjoying seeing her so unrestrained, unburdened, losing herself in his touch and the moment. After a moment longer of refraining from giving in to her demands, James finally allowed two of his fingers to enter her again, her inner muscles clenching around the digits as they stroked her. His other fingers caressed the surrounding flesh, while the pair began to slide in and out of her rhythmically, his thumb circling the spot he somehow knew would send her spiraling over the edge but not placing pressure directly on it. She moaned, writhing in his hold, arching back against the bar of his arm. Still watching her reaction, he latched his mouth onto one of her nipples, sucking hard. A soft cry escaped her, her core clamping on his still moving fingers, her hands burying in his hair, holding him against her.

Snow bit down on her lip, teetering on the precipice, desperately needing the release of falling over it, but just not quite getting there. Groaning in frustration she bucked her hips downward again, seeking release.

Finally James allowed his thumb to brush over the sensitized nerves, watching as she cried his name, squeezing his fingers inside her. She had climaxed before when they made love, but he'd been too preoccupied to observe hers because he himself was usually going over the edge with her. Watching her come apart like this was a new and incredible experience. And yet…_not _new…

Snow gasped for breath, her body tingling from the sensory overload; she was nearly limp, still mostly braced on the support of his arm. His lips released her nipple, she shuddered as they trailed over still-sensitive flesh. His mouth stopped at one spot on top of her breast, sucking on the skin, intent on leaving a mark there. Snow was still replete and pliant in his embrace, trying to catch her breath but not averse to what his mouth was doing, languidly tunneling her fingers through his hair in encouragement. She shifted slightly and suddenly gasped as another ripple of pleasure went through her, the fingernails of her other hand digging into his shoulder. She hadn't noticed that his fingers were still inside her until her movements had sent them rubbing against her; they began moving again, caressing highly sensitized flesh.

"_Charming_," she breathed, she'd thought herself completely spent but her body was already coming back to life as his fingers gently stroked her core. Snow moved restlessly against him, hands fisted in his short hair, tugging at his head. With a final loving swirl of his tongue against the spot he'd been working with his lips and teeth, James allowed her to pull his face to hers. She drew him into an open mouthed kiss, her tongue running along his, meanwhile one of her hands reached down to curl around his erection.

James wrenched his lips from hers, a breath hissing through his clenched teeth. "Snow." His eyes opened to find her green ones watching him as intently as he'd watched her. Her hand stroked over him with an expertise that she shouldn't have, a knowledge of what would send him reeling that she shouldn't know.

Her fingers running along the length of him, watching his already dark eyes grow darker, despite being aroused herself, Snow felt oddly calm and in control and powerful. She knew that Charming was physically strong enough to take charge of the situation if he chose but he wasn't, he was letting her take a certain amount of lead herself, and seeing how she affected him was a heady thing, that she had as much power over him as he did her. Part of her wondered at how in turns she could so desperately need him to be in control and for her to be out of control, and then moments later her needing to have control of the situation. She leaned forward, mouth closing over his earlobe and sucking on it, knowing, from when they were together before, that that drove him to distraction.

His hand clamped down on her wrist, stilling her strokes and causing her to look at him in question. Eyes nearly cobalt with desire, he told her huskily, "I'm only human, Snow. I can't take much more of that." He leaned in to her, lips brushing her ear. "And I don't want to be outside of you any longer."

His uncharacteristically blunt words sent a shiver down her spine. James pulled back just as her gaze lifted to his, heavy-lidded eyes meeting as all thoughts of teasing fled. Both of his hands went to her hips, helping her as she rose up on her knees, her hand guiding him to her entrance; their eyes remained locked the entire time. His fingers bit into her hips, she'd have matching bruises by morning, as she slowly lowered herself, taking him inside her; Snow gasped, face burying in the joint of his neck and shoulder. It had been too long. Neither had fully realized just how much they had missed this intimacy between them and the completeness they felt together like this.

They remained still for several heartbeats, adjusting to the feeling of being joined again and reveling in it. When they finally moved James discovered that in this position he had very little leverage and control, Snow had almost complete control over their joining. A breathless, knowing smile curled her lips as she too realized this. One blond eyebrow rose as the grin turned impish, her arms wrapping around his neck and her head lowering to his. "Don't look so alarmed, Charming," she taunted, her lips brushing his, body slowly rising and falling against him.

What good intentions he had left went out the window; in an ungainly motion, using a strong grip on her thigh, he flipped their positions, drawing a surprised yelp from her. Snow, now on her back beneath him, hair spilling across the quilt, grinned up at James, assuring him that she didn't mind the reversal in the least. He managed to shift them further onto the bed so that they didn't fall off. Their joining from there was passionate and almost clumsy with them half on and half off the mattress, but neither noticed or cared. After Snow once again fragmented with James chasing her over the edge, they collapsed in a sweaty, panting tangle of limbs and long ebony curls.

She locked her legs around his waist, seeking to delay him slipping from her, lips tracing his features. James let his eyes close, breathing heavily through the exhaustion creeping in and allowing himself to enjoy Snow's loving gesture. Finally her lips slid down his neck to press to the pulse in his throat, staying there. James hadn't been oblivious to the many times she would touch that pulse point or his chest, right over his heart. He thought that perhaps Henry's death had raised some fears in her of losing him, thus her preoccupation with these proofs of his being alive.

Eventually, and with great reluctance, they untangled themselves from each other long enough to crawl farther onto the bed and under the warm covers. Snow curled into his side, an arm around his waist and a leg curved over one of his in a gesture as possessive as his arms wrapped her. Her head pillowed on his chest, ear over his heart to hear it thumping reassuringly as she fell asleep.

"I love you, Snow," he murmured into her temple as he pressed a kiss.

She turned her head to kiss his chest before settling her ear over the steady beat again. "I love you too, Charming."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_She was curled up on her side on the cot, staring sightlessly across the cell._

"_Mary Margaret."_

_Her head snapped up, joy shot through her. _He was here!_ "David." She rose to her feet, moving to meet him at the door to her cell._

_He approached the cell slowly. "Emma said we could have a few minutes alone." He curled one hand around a bar. "I wanted to tell you that Dr. Hopper helped me remember what happened during my blackouts."_

_Her emotions were a clash, hope and fear. "And?"_

_David turned to take a few paces away from the bars. "Uh…I only…um…got pieces of the memory, but…" he faced her again, "we were in the woods," he glanced to the side, remembering, "and I kept saying, 'Don't do it.'"_

_She raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Don't do what?"_

"'_Don't kill her.'" He gazed at her with anguished confusion. "That's what I kept saying."_

_Mary Margaret closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. "Kathryn?" She swallowed. "You think you remember me wanting to kill Kathryn?"_

"_Can you explain why I have that memory?" he begged._

_Hurt, betrayal flared in her. "David…are you asking me if I had something to do with Kathryn's murder?"_

"_The sheriff found a heart in our spot." He approached her. "It was in your jewelry box."_

_Her heart was being torn from her chest for what felt like the dozenth time by him, she countered each of his steps forward with one back._

"_The weapon was found in your apartment."_

_She stared at him in utter agony, unable to breathe as his accusations rained down on her like physical blows._

"_I have these…these memories. So, yes, I'm asking."_

"_When your phone records came back," she sobbed, "when I found you wandering in the woods, when everyone thought you killed Kathryn, I stood by you. I never _once_ doubted you. And now that everything is pointing to me…" she stared at him disbelief, "you _actually_ think that I am capable of that kind of evil?" Tears dripped heedlessly down her face._

_David gazed at her with growing guilt and regret._

"_Get…out." Mary Margaret didn't shout, or scream, her voice was level and soaked in torment. She turned away, giving her back to him, refusing to look at him any longer, unable to take the doubt in his cerulean irises a moment longer. As she heard his footsteps fade behind her she squeezed her eyes shut… She couldn't keep doing this…_

Snow gasped, head snapping up from the pillow wide awake, her hand had shot to the other side of the mattress, heart sinking faster than a stone upon finding it empty.

"Snow?"

She sat bolt upright, head whipping around at the voice, worried that she was just imagining it. But blessedly she wasn't.

Her Charming, dressed only in breeches, was kneeling beside the fireplace stoking the fire, the light from the flames playing over his skin, casting the lines of his body in flickering shadow. She relaxed at the sight of him, absently drawing the sheet up to her chest and holding it there. Snow drank in the vision of her beloved before her, the fire painting his tan skin in an even deeper golden glow.

He rose and moved to her side, sitting down on the bed next to her, fingers running through her hair. "What's wrong?"

Snow reached out to lay her hand on his chest, letting his warmth, a touch warmer than usual from the fire, seep into her. "A bad dream." She smiled at him, her hand rising to cup the side of his face. "A bad dream, but it's over now." Her fingers stroked his cheek. "You're here." Her voice was soft as she said this, seeming part statement and part wonder at the fact.

A grin quirked his lips. "Where else could I be?"

It took her a moment to place the phrase, realizing he was quoting what she had said to him in Lochdubh upon finding him on the beach. Her mouth curled into a responding smile; she pressed it to his. "Thank you," Snow whispered against his lips.

He grinned again, kissing her once more before rising. "I'm going to add another log." James moved back to the hearth.

Snow's emerald eyes followed him, once he was crouched by the fireplace she dragged her gaze away, searching the floor around the bed. Their clothes were scattered about, the closest item Charming's shirt, she leaned over the side of the bed and picked it up off the floor. Pulling it over her head she buttoned the few buttons, which reached James' sternum but on her was almost to her navel. As she rose from bed Snow rolled up the sleeves so that they no longer covered her hands, the hem fell to a few inches above her knees.

James lifted his head when she knelt beside him; smiling warmly as she settled onto the floor, curling her legs under her. He returned her smile, prodding the fire one last time before resting the poker against the wall beside the fireplace. He lowered himself to sit as well, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to draw her into his side. He pressed his lips to her temple. "Tell me what happened," he quietly murmured against her skin.

Her eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to shut out the memories but she took a bracing breath and began.

"I had just set out the letter I sent you for Azalea to pick up in the morning…" Her gaze went to him questioningly.

He nodded. "I got it." A smile lightened his worried expression a bit. "I was happy to hear that your father was recovering."

A small smile managed to briefly grace her face. "Thank you." It slid back off, her mind returning to what she was telling him. "Just then Lucy came to my door…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_The night before…_

_All the blood drained from Snow's face. "Is it my father? Has something happened? Did he relapse?"_

_Lucy swallowed thickly. "Princess…" She was wringing her hands nearly raw. "It's not your father…it's Lord Henry…"_

_The princess' stomach dropped like a stone._

_The maid opened her mouth but no sound came out; she took a deep breath and tried again. "He-he's dead."_

_Air was sucked from Snow's lungs. "What?" she managed to gasp out._

_Lucy's face crumpled. "Lord Henry died…some time earlier this evening."_

_Snow staggered back into her room, groping around until she found something to sit down on–her bed–trying to keep from collapsing on the floor. "What…what happened?"_

_Her maid swallowed hard. "I don't know. Granny…she woke up and he was…"_

"_Have…" The princess had to close her eyes for a moment to help brace herself. "Have you…told my stepmother and father?"_

"_No."_

_Snow's head snapped up, eyes narrowed. "'No?' Why on Earth wouldn't you tell Regina that her own father–" She broke off, her mind catching up to exactly what Lucy had said. Her eyes slid shut in realization. "Oh…oh… Granny."_

_Lucy's hands were knotted together desperately. "We didn't know…we didn't know how to handle it."_

_The dark-haired princess was on her feet, pacing the room furiously, hand pressed to her mouth against the rising bile, trying to think._

"_Princess?"_

"_Give me a moment!" she snapped, temper short with the grief, stress and worry. Instantly she felt bad, her apologetic green eyes went to the maid, someone she considered a friend._

_Lucy was already shaking her head. "It's fine. What should we do?"_

_Snow pressed her palms together and then laid the matched fingers against her lips. "Henry didn't want Regina to find out at all…much less like this." She resumed pacing, though at a more measured pace, one hand propped on her hip, the other running over her mouth in deep thought. "And even if he's found elsewhere in the inn, questions will be raised, things…implied. Neither my father or stepmother need that." She rubbed her forehead, coming back to the same thought that had been nagging at her and realizing there was little other choice. Her back stiffened, breathing deeply. "We need to get him home."_

"_Princess…"_

_She turned to find that Lucy had paled, but was slowly nodding._

_Snow spared a glance for the nightclothes she was wearing. "Let me get dressed."_

_Her maid nodded and slipped out of the room, sensing that the princess wished to be left alone while changing._

_Snow stared at the door for several moments, steeling herself to do something that truly bothered her to even think about._

_With one last bracing breath she moved to her closet and began grabbing practical clothes, dressing as quickly as possible. They had a long night ahead of them._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Snow wasn't sure how Lucy had managed it but they met no one on their way out of the castle. The village was equally quiet, the roads deserted due to the late hour. Red must've been waiting for them at the door, opening it under Lucy's knocking fist. Tear tracks on her cheeks were just barely visible in the wavering light from the candle she carried._

_"Where is he?" Snow was immediately all business._

_There was the slightest tightening around Red's eyes to indicate how her best friend's briskness bothered her. However, saying nothing of it, she led the princess up to her grandmother's room._

_Granny looked up, eyes red from tears but face dry; she was sitting in a chair beside the bed, next to Henry who lay there unnaturally still. The older woman rose and moved to the door. She had to clear her throat before being able to say, "I'm sorry, Snow." She glanced back at the man on the bed, fighting back the tears once again gathering, before returning her gaze to her surrogate granddaughter. "So sorry."_

_The princess nodded stoically. "Thank you."_

_Granny's eyes narrowed for a moment, she pressed her lips together as understanding entered her gaze._

_Snow stepped into the room. "We need to move him back to his room at the castle."_

_Red and Granny's eyes met._

"_Is that really necessary?" the older woman cautiously asked._

"_Father and Regina don't need the gossip that Henry being found at the Inn would generate." Snow had her arms crossed over her chest, stance rigid._

"_I'll make sure the way is clear," Lucy calmly volunteered._

"_Thank you," the princess acknowledged over her shoulder._

_The maid curtseyed and hurried off._

_Red stepped forward, "I'll give you a hand moving him." She turned to face Snow. "There's a small wagon out back, we should be able to move it fairly easily between the three of us."_

"_That'll work." Her green eyes met the level hazel ones of her surrogate sister. "We'll carry him."_

_The younger woman compressed her lips but nodded, moving with Snow to the bed._

_Granny set her jaw. "I'll get the wagon ready."_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"You moved your grandfather's body?"

Snow continued to stare into the fire but she nodded in answer to James' horrified question. "It had to be done." She closed her eyes, causing the tears pooling in them to slip down her cheeks. "I…" Her voice cracked, she swallowed; James pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her, offering what comfort he could. "I had to protect my family." His heart broke at the pain and tears in her tone.

He drew her into his lap, cradling her in his embrace; she wept into his chest bitterly. "I can certainly understand that," James murmured against the crown of her head.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Snow struggled to hide how her stomach churned as she and Red carried Henry's body through the castle. His skin was too cool to the touch and didn't feel the same as when he was alive. She kept distracting herself from the unnerving sensation and unsettling thought of what she was doing._

_Granny was a few steps ahead of them making sure that the way was clear, though Lucy had apparently been successful in her part of the mission as they hadn't met a soul. When they reached Henry's room, Granny pushed the door open and held it while the two young women carried the older man through._

_Apparently Lucy had come in before them and turned down the bed so that they could more easily and quickly get Henry into it. Regardless of the fact that they knew he was dead and couldn't feel pain they were infinitely careful and gentle as they lowered him to the bed. _

_Granny came over and helped them tuck him into the bed, using her personal experience to place him in what was his natural sleeping position. Gaze uncharacteristically soft, she then brushed his hair back off his forehead, the gesture lingering and intimate. After placing an affectionate, bittersweet kiss on his brow she stepped away._

_Snow's mind was screaming in confusion over the conflicting feelings raging inside her. Tucking someone into bed was something people did for children and the sick, to those who still lived, but her mind kept insistently reminding herself that he was, in fact, dead. Her heart rebelled, shrieking in protest. He couldn't be dead! He was her grandfather! The only grandfather she'd ever known! He was always so strong and kind, hugging her fiercely to his chest and smiling at her with eyes that twinkled undeniably with life. How could that just be gone now? It took all of her will power to ignore the war being fought between logic and emotion, between heart and mind, between the young girl who had rejoiced at finally having a grandfather and the woman who knew that the man she looked up to and loved so much would never willfully open his eyes again. She'd never see his pleasant smile as he watched others around him. See his kind eyes gazing at her with utter, absolute acceptance. Hear his familiar deep tones advising her without judgment or prejudice. His arms would never wrap around her in an encompassing, comforting embrace._

_Her heart bled inwardly while she refused to let it be seen on the outside._

_Granny and Red had been standing, watching the silent princess, who had been lost in her mind for several minutes, waiting until she slowly returned to the world outside her thoughts again._

"_We'll head back to the Inn," Granny gently told Snow, once the young woman's eyes had refocused._

"_Of course." Her voice was barely-there, slightly rough from trying to hold back her pain and tears. Her green-eyed gaze remained on the man in the bed, hands resting lightly on the quilt. "Thank you."_

_Red clenched her hands at her sides in frustrated helplessness at seeing her sister in such pain and withdrawal, while the young women's mutual grandmother gazed at Snow with compassion, grief of her own and the ache to do something to ease the young woman's pain, but knowing that she couldn't. Granny gently grasped her younger granddaughter's elbow and directed her out of the room._

_Snow's long fingers curled into the quilt, fisting tight enough for her nails to nearly tear the fabric. She sucked in several breaths, forcing back the sobs that were demanding release. No, she couldn't be found in here. She should leave _now_._

_Her other hand slowly slid across the soft quilt until it rested on the one of Henry's they'd left on top of the blanket. Oh-so tentatively her fingers curled around his palm, slipping her hand into his._

Her hands were curled into fists at her sides. "I'm not angry," she insisted stubbornly.

A larger, calloused and wrinkled hand encompassed one of her smaller, white-knuckled ones. Pain and confusion-filled emerald eyes lifted to patient, understanding chestnut eyes. There was no demand, no force in either his gaze or touch.

With the painful slowness of a blooming flower, her tight fist unfurled, haltingly turned and her fingers curled around his with equal hesitance. Once she was returning his grasp–albeit loosely and with the utmost caution–Henry's weathered hand closed about hers in a firm, steady grip. A heartbeat later the conflicted princess's hand was clinging to his desperately.

_Snow squeezed her eyes shut, jaw clenched tightly. Snow had been so angry and hurting over her father re marrying and the perceived replacing of her mother. Henry, even though he'd only just met her, had sought her out in the barns and simply sat down next to her, letting her work through her emotions and supporting her as she did so. She wasn't sure he knew how much him simply holding her hand had helped._

_The hand she was holding was agonizingly cold and slack in hers. Finally she slipped her hand from the unresponsive one, slowly turning away and moving to the door. She refused to look back as she closed it behind her. Snow headed down the hall to her room where she would sleeplessly wait the hours remaining until her surrogate grandfather's body was found by his valet. The man would go to the housekeeper, who had the unhappy duty of going to inform the queen while Lucy was sent to–unnecessarily–inform a still awake Snow._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James rocked Snow back and forth in his arms on the floor, his mouth pressed into her hair, letting the pain radiating off of her wash over him, her tears trickling from his neck, where her face was pressed, down his chest, and soft sobs reverberated against his shoulder. He murmured to her ceaselessly, not having any real idea what was spilling from his lips but needing to comfort her in any way he could.

The story had tumbled from her, in turns halting and a jumbled rush of words, sobs interrupting the narrative, her fingers digging into his shoulders, hands, arms, back, wherever she was holding him at the moment, searching for purchase, needing the anchor. As she told him what had happened, slowly most of the questions that she had sobbed out earlier made sense. Her desperate pain over why he had to be at Granny's that night. Why she had to be the one to carry him back to the castle. Why she had to be the one to take care of the situation. Why he had to die. Only one question that he remembered really remained unexplained.

He lifted his head slightly so that his chin rested on the crown of her head and was able to speak clearly. "Earlier you asked 'why didn't he tell us?'" Her grip tightened. "What did you mean?"

Snow tenseed in his arms and part of him wished he could take it back or tell her to forget he asked, but she needed to get it all out. So instead he waited. Waited until she had the words.

Her hands grasping his shoulders didn't relax, but her head turned to the side until her face was no longer buried in the joint of his neck and shoulder.

"He knew he was dying…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_What?!"_

_Doc cringed slightly under Regina's incredulous gaze and Snow's one of near-betrayal._

"_His heart…" the learned dwarf hesitantly continued. "I heard the irregularity several months ago. I told him that it was dangerous; that if he took it easy he would live longer…" He swallowed thickly. "He ordered me not to tell anyone." His small hands were knotted together furtively. "As his physician I had to honor his wishes."_

"_Why?" Snow finally gasped out, her eyes turning to meet her stepmother's. "Why wouldn't he tell us?"_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Why didn't he tell us?" Snow's pleading, drenched eyes were searching his as if the answer could be divined from their cerulean depths.

"I don't know," James admitted, curling his body around hers more, wishing that he could somehow use his form to protect her from this hurt or at least absorb the pain and take it from her.

With a teary sniff she burrowed deeper into his embrace.

"Maybe," he began thoughtfully, his palm rubbing soothingly up and down her back, "he didn't want to worry you or your stepmother." His lips brushed her temple. "He knew how deeply you both cared about him and naturally he'd want to save you from the painful anticipation of losing him."

After a few heart beats she admitted, "I'm so afraid…that he didn't know–" Her throat closed up, momentarily choking off her words, she had to swallow a couple of times to clear it before she could continue. "I'm scared that he didn't know how much I loved him. How much he mattered to me."

"He knew." James' response was instantaneous, without a breath of doubt.

She lifted her eyes to his again, bottom lip trembling. "How can you be so sure?"

His hand rose to gently cup her cheek. "It was in every hug you gave him, every kiss on the cheek. Every time you turned to him for advice and help. Trusting him to give you the affection and support you required. And he loved you just as much." A grin lifted his mouth. "You could see it in the pride and love in his expression every time he referred to you as his granddaughter. In his protective care and the way he wanted your happiness so dearly, wanting it as much as he wanted Regina's."

A tear trickled from Snow's eye, a stroke of his thumb wiped it away. "He knew, Snow. And he loved you too."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**A/N: **In case you're wondering, no I didn't change who died. I was deliberately being missleading in the last chapter. When I first started this story I thought it was Leopold who was going to die, but quickly realized that it didn't feel right. Henry stepped up and became rather insistent that HE was the one who was going to die. I had gotten to the part where Snow and Charming reunited when I recieved the news about my grandfather. The fact that it was Henry who died actually made it even harder to return to. A few weeks ago I felt ready to go back to writing but the moment I opened this document I couldn't do it; I closed it pretty much immediately. It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago that I was finally able to work on this again. My emotions being as they are took me to places in my writing that I never thought I would go. This chapter, for me, went from: "ANYTHING but this!" feeling where I couldn't even look at it for weeks, to being perhaps one of the most painful but theraputic outlets for how I felt. This chapter came at both the worst moment it could but also the best. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, and the timing of this chapter is no different. As much as sometimes I still want to cry when writing about how Snow is feeling in this story right now, I'm looking forward to the next chapter and beyond. We'll be seeing the arrival of more friends in the next chapter and in the coming chapters seeing more of Regina.


	20. Chapter 17: Roads Go Ever Ever On

Thank you so much for your patience. I want to make sure you guys know I'm definitely not giving up on this story or Hot Chocolate (for those who read that.) Sometimes it might take me a little longer than preferred for me to update because not only does work keep me busy and I have friends and family I spend time with, but I also want to be sure that the chapters I post are just right, and that I'm telling the story I want to. Thank you for the encouragement and support, especially with my grandfather.

**Sassy**, more and more thanks for everything, dartling! ;-D

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 17: Roads Go Ever Ever On**

Nothing could've stopped the grin from spreading across James' face upon awakening the next morning. His nose was buried in Snow's hair, her body curled into his side, his arms wrapped around her, her face pressed into his shoulder. How he had missed this, simply being able to fall asleep and wake up beside the woman he loved. His arms tightened around Snow, pulling her even closer and watching her lips curve upward, burrowing deeper into his embrace. James' grin widened as he kissed the top of his love's curls, settling back into the bedding to sleep for a bit longer.

But the second his eyes closed there was a light tapping on the door. He inwardly cursed whoever was on the other side.

With the utmost care, the prince disentangled himself from his and Snow's mutually tight embrace, trying not to wake her, knowing how desperately she needed the sleep. His unconscious princess moaned and grumbled her displeasure at his leaving her. Standing beside the bed, feet planted on the icy floor, he pulled the covers up over her form, still only clad in his shirt; Snow frowned as she was tucked in, obviously not satisfied by the substitute for his warmth and comfort.

James glanced around for a shirt or perhaps a robe to don in addition to the breeches that he still wore, but he hadn't had the opportunity to see where his few personal items from the saddlebags had been placed the night before. Another knock sounded at the door, more insistently this time, and rather than risk the person on the other side waking Snow, he decided the lesser evil was to answer it shirtless.

Red raised a predictably sarcastic and surprised eyebrow as her eyes swept up and down his half-naked body. "Well I can certainly see why Snow found you so hard to resist," she commented in a low voice.

James had relaxed as soon as he saw who it was, thankful for the more detached appreciation and purely platonic look in the woman's gaze, glad that she had no interest in him. He rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his bare chest with an expression akin to a tolerant older brother. "Yes, Red?"

A smirk briefly tilted her mouth before she extended to him a bundle he hadn't noticed until that moment. "This is a dress, undergarments and shoes for Snow."

James wondered if he should be surprised at the sudden lack of judgment or wrath in her gaze that'd been so prominent when she'd walked in on them in Lochdubh. Oddly, or perhaps not so oddly, he wasn't. "Thank you."

Red clasped her hands in front of her. "I mussed her bedding and will tell Lucy, Snow's maid, that she was up and about before she arrived."

Unable to really think of anything else to say, he thanked her again.

Now she held out a steaming bucket that had also escaped his notice on the floor beside her. "Hot water," she elaborated, garnering another "thank you." "It's an hour before sunrise, Snow should be out and about shortly."

He got the message loud and clear. "Understood."

Red nodded sharply and turned on her heel to head down the hall.

"Red," James called after her as loudly as he dared, she turned back. "You've been very...accepting of Snow and I being together like this since I arrived yesterday. Why?"

"Because she needs you," she answered simply.

And, he realized, for her it truly was that simple. The woman she considered her sister needed him and that trumped any misgivings she might have about the physical aspect of their relationship. He inclined his head, a gesture of respect. "Thank you." He hoped she understood he was thanking her for so much more than just giving him an answer.

She gazed at him thoughtfully and then dropped in a curtsey that was devoid of her usual sass, instead imbued with mutual respect. "Thank _you_." Once she straightened again her eyes cut to the room for a moment before meeting his again. "Help her."

"Always," he swore.

She nodded, accepting his pledge, then she once again turned and made her way toward the stairs to the main hall.

James watched Red until she rounded the corner, then stepped back into his room, closing the door behind him. His gaze went to the bed, a grin lighting his face at the vision before him. The covers were again rumpled from Snow's tossing and turning, she now lay on her back, one hand resting on her stomach, the other curled lightly by her temple. She looked achingly young, bedding twisted around her waist, his too-large shirt nearly swallowing her up and one of the sleeves covering her hand almost to the fingertips.

He set the bundle down atop the trunk at the foot of the bed and the bucket on the floor beside it en route to the bed. The prince settled himself on the edge of the mattress beside his love, just watching her sleep for a few moments, enjoying the sight of Snow in repose. After a few minutes he knew that he couldn't delay waking her any longer if they wanted to be able to take their time in cleaning up and dressing. Of course that didn't mean he couldn't wake her up in a mutually enjoyable way.

Bracing a hand on either side of her on the mattress, he lowered his head to hers, lips pressing to her ruby red ones. At first she responded to him instinctively, without waking, but slowly she was drawn from the land of dreams. Her eyelashes fluttered against his cheek and her lips curved into a smile under his, hands rising to cradle his face between them.

After several pleasurable moments, James lifted his head enough so that he could look down at her properly. Snow's eyes were still closed, a blissful smile on her face.

"I could get used to waking up like this." Jade eyes fluttered open, meeting blue, her fingers ran down his cheek, the overnight stubble rasping against her skin. "Good morning."

He grinned broadly at the dark-haired beauty beneath him. "Morning." He lowered himself to rest above her, elbows braced on either side of her to keep most of his weight off of her. "Red was just here. She dropped off clothing for you and water for us to wash up."

Snow tensed slightly in his arms. "What did she say?"

He pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead. "Just that she alibied you to your maid, but you should be out of my room before anyone else is awake."

She watched her palms run up and down his chest, a gesture that she seemed to be using to reassure herself he was really there more than anything sexual. "I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised with her acceptance." Her eyes lifted to his. "She was the one who told me where your room was," she explained at his questioning gaze.

James shifted most of his weight onto one elbow, his other hand playing with the ends of her hair. "She's been _very_ worried about you." His gaze met hers. "Whatever the reason," his head dipped down to kiss her before lifting again, "I'm glad she told you."

Snow grinned. "Me too."

His expression became solemn. "What needs to be done today?"

The happiness dissipated, replaced with sorrow; she rubbed her hand over her face, remembering…it was akin to waking from one of the most wonderful dreams into a terrible nightmare. "It feels like an endless list," she murmured.

He brushed the hair from her face. "Well, I'm here." Emerald eyes locked on his. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Grief still lingered in her eyes but a smile spread across her face, her hands rising to cradle his cheeks and drawing him down for a loving kiss. "Thank you."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Hannah removed the pot of oatmeal from the stove, grumbling under her breath over being contradicted in her own domain. Reddell had shown up in the kitchen and insisted the cook have oatmeal ready for Snow when they'd hardly been able to get her to eat a few slices of fruit and toast for several weeks now. Still muttering her annoyance under her breath, the head cook pulled out several pieces of fruit to slice up; in the process she didn't hear the door open.

"Good morning, Hannah."

The cook spun around with a startled yelp, eyebrows shooting up in surprise once she saw the person addressing her. "Snow!" Hannah pressed a hand over her heart, attempting to still the pounding. "Goddess, child, you gave me a fright." _What on Earth brought about _this _change?!_ she silently wondered. Weeks of her princess being withdrawn, worried and listless, and suddenly here Snow was seeming more herself than she'd been for so long.

An apologetic smile lifted her lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Hannah took a steadying breath. "It's all right." After another breath she turned back to the counter. "What might I do for you, milady?"

The princess lowered herself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I was wondering if I might have a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee, if it isn't too much trouble."

The older woman went still for a moment, having to force herself not to turn and stare at Snow. "I just made a pot of oatmeal and the hot water is boiling for the coffee." Finally composed enough that she trusted herself to turn to the dark-haired princess, Hannah set the knife she was holding down again and moved to the pot. "I'll dish you out a bowl."

Snow was already moving to the aforementioned item. "It's all right, I don't want to keep you from your preparations. I can serve myself."

Hannah reluctantly relinquished the serving spoon to the princess, returning to her position at the cutting board. Out of the corner of her eye she continued to observe Snow, surprised but glad to see the healthy helping the young woman dished for herself.

"Would you ladies mind the company of a gentleman for breakfast?"

To say that Snow's face lit up at the sight of Prince James, who was standing in the doorway, would be a supreme understatement. Love and joy radiated from her and his expression was just as alight as he looked upon her.

Hannah, of course, had known the prince had arrived yesterday, but with Snow's restlessness at dinner the cook had thought that perhaps Red's hopes that James could help might have been set too high. Now...now part of Hannah was _beyond _scandalized to think what might have happened last night to have caused such an about-face in Snow's attitude. But most of her was more than willing to conveniently ignore those suspicions and simply be grateful for having her princess more or less back to her old self.

"I suppose we could find room for you at the table," Snow teased. It wasn't on par with her usual witty repartee, but at least she was joking around a bit, and this eased almost all of the residual tension from the cook's shoulders.

With a chuckle, James gave her a slightly mocking bow as he made his way to her side. "Well, how kind of you."

"I know," she said as she reached into the cabinet for a second bowl, her impish grin nearly back to its normal brilliance.

Now standing beside Snow, he gently brushed a stray lock of hair over her shoulder.

Hannah's eyebrows shot into her hairline at the gesture, a very intimate action for an unengaged couple. She knew her princess too well not to have recognized her growing feelings for the Seaborn heir when he visited the prior spring, and of course, like most of the staff, had heard the stories and rumors of the pair's meetings since. All were expecting their engagement to be announced in the near future. But the highly conservative cook fervently hoped that the couple was more guarded with their affection around others.

James finally tore his gaze from Snow and turned to Hannah, forcing himself to clasp his hands behind his back, away from his love, keenly aware of the cook's disapproval of his familiarity with touching her mistress. "Hannah, it is good to see you again."

The matronly woman cocked an eyebrow at him. "Mm hmm..."

He was caught between bursting out laughing and squirming like a naughty child caught in the act. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to the kettle as it began emitting a long whistle, removing it from the burner and pouring the boiling water into the coffee press. A glance at Snow showed that she was biting down on her lip, trying to hold back laughter.

"How is it she always makes me feel like a misbehaving child?" he muttered low enough that only she heard.

"She makes _everyone_ feel like a poorly behaved child," she whispered back, laughter thick in her tone.

"Uh huh." He smirked, lifting the two mugs he'd taken from the cabinet in one hand and the coffee press in the other, then carrying them to the table. Snow followed behind him with the pair of bowls she'd dished out for them.

They seated themselves; James pushed the plunger down for the press and poured them each a cup. Once settled, they began passing spices and other additives for their coffees and breakfasts to each other.

Snow hadn't realized how hungry she was until the first bite; for several moments her attention was fixed completely on her meal.

James met Hannah's gaze, sharing equally relieved looks at the return of the princess' appetite.

After a couple of minutes he turned to his love. "You said you have a lot to do today?"

She nodded, draining the last of her coffee and pouring herself a second cup. "The guests who will be staying until after the funeral will be arriving today. I also have a great deal of paperwork that needs going over before the mourning period begins and a meeting with a few nobles this afternoon."

"Can I help you with any of that?"

Amusement lifted her lips. "If you don't mind going over rather boring agricultural reports?"

ONCE~ ONCE~ ONCE~ ONCE

Snow groaned, rubbing her temple in an attempt to ease the throbbing there.

James looked up from the reports, making a mental note to ask Snow if she and her father would consider renegotiating their trade agreement with the crops being particularly plentiful, frowning with concern at her actions. "What is it?"

"I don't know a word of Arabic and the Sultan's grasp of English leaves something to be desired," she said wryly.

He chuckled. "Yes, I've frequently wondered why he doesn't just have Jasmine handle his English speaking correspondences. Her mother made sure she was natively fluent in it and not just Arabic."

Snow was squinting at the barely legible scribbles of broken English. "Her mother knew English?"

"It was her native language."

His princess' head shot up, eyebrows high on her forehead with surprise. "She wasn't from Agrabah?"

"No." James had to push down his own surprise at her ignorance, reminding himself that she hadn't had much contact with other royals outside her small group of friends. "She was the daughter of a noble from Glenbriar."

She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "I think I remember Aurora mentioning a distant relation having married into the Agrabahan royal family."

"Her name was Lila. Apparently Sultan was in Glenbriar for a visit and met her at a ball, and according to him he fell instantly in love. Though Jasmine told me that her mother used to say that the language barrier made his courtship of Lila, who only spoke English at the time...interesting."

Snow laughed at the image conjured in her mind. "I imagine so." She glanced back at the letter in front of her. "So, do you and your father have this much trouble deciphering Sultan's correspondences?"

He gave her a wry grin. "Actually I know Arabic so Sultan writes to us in that. Father has been having me deal with his writing for years."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You know Arabic?"

He shrugged. "After you have Jasmine spit profanity at you a few times, you kind of want to know what the hell she's calling you. She makes fun of my accent and pronunciation, though." James grinned self-deprecatingly." According to her just because I know how to speak it doesn't mean I should. I sound pretty bad."

An equally amused smile spread across her face. "You'll have to teach me at least a little before I meet them."

He grinned back at her. "We can definitely arrange that."

There was a polite knock on the door, to which Snow called for them to enter.

The door opened to reveal Doc, who nodded to them both respectfully. "I'm sorry to intrude, but King Leopold requests to see you, Prince James." The wise dwarf's eyes went to Snow as she moved as though to rise with her beloved. "He asked that it be alone."

The princess' expression revealed her discomfort with the idea of her fiancé-to-be having to deal with her father, who had already rejected him once before without really giving him a chance, alone.

James reached across the table to squeeze her hand reassuringly. "It'll be fine." He gave her a half-grin. "I doubt he's going to demand swords at dawn with seconds."

She forced a smile but obviously wasn't overly comforted by his attempt at a joke.

He gave her hand one last squeeze and nodded before standing and following Doc.

Snow stared at the closed door for several moments after they left, worry plain on her face.

ONCE~ ONCE~ ONCE~ ONCE

James would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about Snow's father calling for him. He certainly had no desire to get into an argument with the man, especially with how ill Leopold had been and how weak he still was, but the prince also had no intention of leaving when Snow needed him here.

Doc perfunctorily knocked on the door to what James assumed to be the king's quarters, opening it carefully and checking inside to make sure Leopold wasn't asleep. Upon reassuring himself that the ailing monarch was still awake, he allowed the young man into the room.

As much as he'd been prepared to face the weakened king James was still caught off guard by the reality of how much the pneumonia had ravaged him. There was hardly an ounce of color in his face, the skin under his eyes was nearly black, his cheeks were sunken and it looked as if just a breath of wind would blow him away.

"Prince James," his voice was thin and reedy, unrecognizable as that of his jovial host last spring, or the man who'd resolutely refused the prince's suit of his daughter just a few short months ago, "thank you for coming." The king's gaze turned to Doc. "Please, leave us. I'll have Prince James send for you if I feel weak."

The physician bowed and reluctantly left his patient with the prince.

"Please," Leopold feebly waved him to the chair beside the bed, "come sit closer so that we may speak more easily."

James did as he was bade, settling into the cushioned seat, uncharacteristically unsure of himself with this man.

The king gazed at him watchfully. "My daughter told me she knows of my rejecting your request to propose."

James' hands tightened into fists, bracing himself for whatever was to come. "She was hurt and wanted to know why I left so suddenly. I wouldn't lie to her, I love her and she deserves the truth."

"How did she take it?"

The prince looked down. "She was hurt and angry with both of us for acting so high-handed and not discussing it with her."

"But you worked things out," his hoarse voice prompted.

The fair-haired man lifted his head, lips quirking up in a rueful grin. "It took some time, discussion, yelling, apologies, and promises on my part, to never make decisions that involve us both without her again."

What was just barely recognizable as a laugh escaped Leopold. "My daughter is a very strong woman; I would have been worried if she'd made it easy for you."

A chuckle rumbled from James, surprising himself since humor was certainly something he had _not_ expected to feel during this meeting. "That strength is one of the things I love most about her, what originally grabbed my attention. Both as an adult and as a child."

"I had wondered," Leopold stated slowly, "if you both had remembered your friendship as children."

"Not until Riverdon."

"Thick as thieves you two were."

Regardless of his intention to remain on guard with Snow's father, the prince found the tension steadily easing, though there was still a corner of his mind bracing itself, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I hadn't consciously realized how much I had missed her or even what it was I was missing so much."

"You were both very young. It isn't overly surprising that your friendship was pushed to the back of your mind with so much time and other things demanding both of your attention."

James tilted his head to the side in thought; there was a question that'd been bothering him for a while. "Why did you remove Snow so entirely from Court life? Why did you keep her from the friends she had among the royalty outside of King Gaspard, Princess Aurora and Prince Eric?"

The king was silent for several moments. "At that gathering, the last one Snow attended..." His voice trailed off, pain caused by whatever he was remembering evident in his aged face. "My wife was barely five months passed and single women and widows were being shoved at me at every turn." Anger was heavy in his tone, his eyes found the young man's. "My wife, the love of my life, hadn't even been gone long enough for her perfume to fade from our quarters, and they were already trying to replace her."

The thought of losing Snow came unbidden to James' mind, cutting through him like a thousand shards of glass, shedding his heart. Oh, yes, he could readily understand Leopold's fury at the Court's machinations.

Apparently the older man saw this in his eyes for he nodded slowly. "For that, I left, taking Snow with me."

His eyelids slid shut, a weary breath escaping him, the emotional outburst having obviously taken quite a bit out of him. However when James offered to call for Doc, he waved the concern off, continuing after taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Time passed and eventually the pain became tolerable. I kept...meaning to return to High Court, but I always found reasons not to and it had become easier to stay away, for Snow had little desire to attend such functions, preferring the society of her small group of friends and remaining home. I told myself that I just was allowing her to do what she wished, but truthfully, at least in part…I've been selfish. She is all I have left of the woman I loved and I didn't want to share her." He swallowed, eyes closing for a moment, almost in shame.

"I didn't rejoin Court until after I remarried. Regina…she's often told me that my indulgence of letting Snow refuse to attend the functions has done more harm than good, that I actually significantly damaged her ability to find a match." His guilty eyes opened to stare at the bed canopy. "I didn't want to hear it, so I ignored her warnings."

The king turned to the man–yes, he had to admit to himself that James wasn't a boy, but a man, and a good one–sitting beside him. "You love my daughter."

The prince stiffened, wary of where things might go with that statement, but he nodded, eyes never wavering from Leopold's. "With all my heart."

"Coming close to death," the ailing man commented philosophically, "allows you rather clear hindsight. I realize now that in allowing Snow to avoid Court I did hinder her ability to handle High Court and to meet men whom she could marry." He was blinking rapidly. "If I had pushed her to attend High Court functions she would be more prepared to step into that aspect of ruling the kingdom…" his throat constricted, "and you would have found each other sooner."

James' eyebrows shot for his hairline.

Tears trickled from the corners of Leopold's eyes. "I am facing the bitter reality that I'm not young anymore. I will die, likely sooner than later, and when that happens I do not want my child to be alone, to rule alone." He looked to his daughter's beloved. "My reasons for refusing you in Riverdon weren't the ones I gave…or at least not _only_ the ones I gave."

The young man shifted in his chair, leaning forward. "Your Majesty–"

The king waved his words off. "James, I am giving you my blessing to ask my daughter for her hand. I believe you could call me Leopold at this juncture."

There was a beat of silence, the fair-haired man still struggling to process the fact that this was truly happening, that her father, a man he worried would _never_ accept James' suit of Snow, had just granted, not only his consent, but his _blessing_. It took several breaths that he actually had to focus on drawing in before he was able to speak. "You _want_ me to marry Snow?"

"If it is what she wants, yes," the king nodded as firmly as he was able.

James' head dropped in relief. "Thank you," he gasped out. His head rose again to look at the father of his fiancée-to-be. "Thank you, Leopold."

"You will have to wait until the end of the mourning period for Henry…and I must insist that this matter with Midas be officially resolved as well, before you ask Snow."

He was already nodding before Leopold had even finished. "I expected we'd have to wait a mourning period, and I was planning on seeing Midas and Abigail this week before I received news of Henry's death."

A hint of amusement touched Leopold's exhausted features. "I do not imagine Midas liked being put off."

James smirked. "If he takes issue with me delaying our meeting for a short while because I'm attending a funeral, then I expect he won't be too vocal about it, unless he wants to explain his pique to the Court." His expression became serious. "I have made arrangements in case he does take offense, in order to try to protect both of our kingdoms."

"Good…" Leopold was fading fast, his energy sapped from their discussion. "Help Snow through this."

"I will," he promised. "I will be there for her every day for as long as I live."

The burden that had been pressing on Leopold's mind eased, the weight of worry for his daughter and the hurt he'd caused her lifted. The king and father drifted off to sleep much more at peace than he'd been in days.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Midas scowled down at the letter–more like a hurriedly scribbled note–in his hand, slamming it down on the table next to his breakfast plate. "The nerve of him!"

Abigail took a deep breath. "Father, I'm fairly certain Prince James didn't _intend_ for Lord Henry to die this week. And we certainly couldn't expect him not to attend the funeral if he was friends with the man or the family," she calmly pointed out. "Besides, he said that he just needed to reschedule, that he could be here next week." She forced herself to sound bright at the prospect.

Her father grumbled as he began eating again, stabbing the ham with a little more force than necessary. "I've business to attend to. He'll have to wait until we return in three weeks or so. As it is, he's been putting this off for far too long."

She pushed the eggs around on her plate. "It is a very big decision, for both of us… Marriage is for life." Her heart plummeted at the thought.

"This is a good match! He can hardly do better." The king's tone dripped with annoyance and fury.

She was staring at her plate fixedly. "Neither can we," she quietly pointed out, loath though she was to do so.

"Humph," he groused. Midas didn't like to acknowledge that this fact went both ways.

Abigail wasn't really surprised that her father hadn't noticed her own lack of enthusiasm over the marriage. She loved him dearly, but, as her beloved, departed mother had often said, when her father latched onto something he was rather blind to how others felt about it.

"Father…" she began tentatively, "maybe this match isn't the…best idea?"

Her father frowned. "Of course it's a good idea. It is perfect for you both."

The princess longed to speak up, to tell him how she really felt, that she didn't want to marry Prince James, that there was someone else in her heart… But even if he agreed he'd be worried about offending the prince and King George. Never had Abigail felt more trapped in her life. Or more heartbroken.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow had obviously been pacing for some time when James returned to the study. She spun toward him as he came through the door, hands clasped in front of her, wringing them raw. "Is everything all right?" she asked as he closed the door.

The prince crossed the room in just a few long strides, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her soundly. His beloved was stunned and for a moment unable to respond but soon enough recovered and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. Eventually James lifted his head so that he could gaze down at her.

Snow's eyes blinked open, face flushed, expression bemused. "What was that for?"

James grinned, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "Do I need an excuse to kiss my fiancée-to-be?"

Dark eyebrows shot up. They both knew that was what they were to each other, but they'd never actually spoken the term out loud. "Charming?"

His grin broadened, fingers caressing her cheek. "He gave his blessing."

She was frozen for several heartbeats, then her mouth fell open slightly, breath coming in gasps, hardly daring to believe. "You mean...?"

James was certain his face would split from how wide his smile was. "Your father has given his blessing for me to propose after the mourning period for Henry has ended."

Snow gave a wordless cry of joy, leaping into his arms; laughing, he lifted her off her feet, spinning them around. When he finally set her back down, Snow immediately pressed her lips to his in ecstatic joy and relief, he cradled her jaw in his palms. When their lips finally pulled apart they kept their foreheads pressed together.

"I love you," James murmured.

The dark-haired beauty's arms tightened around his shoulders. "I love you too." Her white teeth were a stark contrast to her red lower lip as she bit it. "He really gave his blessing?"

James knew she wasn't questioning his honesty, but that she was having as much trouble as him grasping the idea that this impediment to their betrothal had finally and suddenly been removed. "Well, he did have one stipulation."

She jerked her head back, gazing at him worriedly.

His thumb smoothed over the lines that'd formed between her eyebrows. "I have to break with Midas first," he felt all of the tension drain from her, bringing a grin to his face, "which I assured him I had already been planning to do."

A relieved sigh escaped her as she leaned back into the circle of his arms, nuzzling her face into the crook of his shoulder. James was more than happy to return the embrace, burying his nose in her hair and holding her tightly.

"I feel guilty," she whispered after several moments of comfortable silence.

Her prince frowned, tilting his head down and lifting her chin so he could look in her eyes. "Why?" he asked, genuinely bewildered.

Emerald eyes cast downward, almost shamefully. "Henry has just died, his funeral is tomorrow, but right now I'm..." She blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears that were threatening at bay. "I'm so..."

"Happy?" he offered, understanding dawning, remembering all too well how all over the place and intense his emotions had been for a while after David's death, and the moments of guilt when he'd felt happy. It'd been a couple of months before he found even a semblance of balance with his emotions, before he'd been able to feel happiness without guilt.

Snow's face lifted to his, craving the understanding in his blue-eyed gaze, and the added nod of affirmation.

He gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. "It takes time," he quoted back her advice from the Spring Festival. "And it's only been a little over a day."

Nodding, she gave him a bittersweet smile, burrowing back into the comfort of his arms. James was in no hurry to let her go, gently running soothing strokes of his palms up and down her back, pressing sweet kisses into her hair and on her forehead.

There was a polite rap at the door.

"Just a moment," Snow called. She allowed herself a few more moments in James' embrace, drawing strength before forcing herself to pull away, his arms equally reluctant in releasing her. They stepped far enough apart to just barely constitute a respectable distance. "Come in."

A footman entered, bowing to them both. "Your Majesties, Prince Thomas' carriage has just entered the village."

"Thank you, we'll greet him ourselves."

The servant bowed again. "Very good, ma'am."

After the man left, James turned to her, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

The over-solicitous gesture coaxed a smile onto her face as she threaded her hand through his elbow. "Indeed."

Liam was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the entrance, he nodded to them both in greeting. "Red had to run down to the Inn for a few hours," he explained for her absence.

"And Ella?" Snow questioned.

"I'm not sure where she is," the general shrugged apologetically. "Last I heard she was somewhere in the palace helping prepare the rooms for the guests who're arriving today. I don't think she's heard that Thomas is arriving right now."

"If she isn't here when they arrive, Thomas will find her," James stated assuredly.

The other two nodded before their attention was turned to the carriage rolling through the main gate, two guards riding before it and another pair behind, up to where they were standing.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the two royals and general, door opening without waiting for the footman to reveal Thomas. The soon-to-be-king nodded to his brother and friends before stepping down and turning to give Belle a hand. They immediately moved to stand before Snow, their hostess and the representing member of the grieving family.

Thomas took her hand bowing over it while she curtseyed, observing under these solemn circumstances the rules of etiquette more than they normally would.

"Snow," he said once they had both straightened, gaze sad and sympathetic, "I'm so sorry." He swallowed. "Henry was a great man, I'll miss him."

She managed a small smile, placing a grateful hand on his arm, knowing that his visits to Everland while courting Ella had led to a friendship between the two men. "Thank you. He liked you and thought very highly of you."

Her brother-in-law-to-be gave her hand one last supportive squeeze before stepping aside so that she could greet Belle and moved toward his brother and Liam.

Belle curtseyed to Snow, but after a beat she impulsively hugged the ebony-haired woman. "I'm sorry," she managed into her new friend's shoulder, tears clogging her already muffled voice.

The princess blinked furiously as she embraced the petite woman back, unable to say anything because she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears if she did.

After a few moments Belle hurriedly pulled back, swiping at the tears that had escaped and fallen down her cheeks.

James, seeing that Snow was struggling with her own emotions, stepped forward, waving the servants by the door to come forward and gather the trunks.

Thomas had been scanning their surroundings but his eyes now went to his brother. "Where's Ella?"

Liam stepped forward. "She's in the castle somewhere; I sent a couple of servants looking for her when we heard you were nearly here. They've probably found her and she just hasn't gotten here yet."

The younger prince nodded, already making his way up the stairs. "I'll go find her myself."

The elder brother and the general shared an amused glance.

"Mara," Snow called to the remaining maid who stepped forward. "You remember Belle?"

"Of course milady," the brunette servant smiled at the librarian.

"It's good to see you again," Belle nodded.

"Please show her to her room."

"The one she stayed in last time?"

"Yes," the princess confirmed, turning back to Belle. "I have work that I must do. Will we see you for dinner?"

"Of course," the petite woman confirmed. "I'll see you then."

Snow reached out and grasped her arm, giving it a grateful squeeze. "Thank you for being here."

Her friend smiled and nodded. "I'm glad to be of help in any way I can."

"You already are," the raven-haired woman assured her.

The librarian finally allowed herself to follow Mara into the castle, Liam trailing overprotectively behind them.

James moved to stand behind Snow, hands resting comfortingly on her shoulders; she leaned back into his chest, hands coming up to grip his, neither able to really care about the scandal the gesture could create, just giving and receiving comfort.

He leaned forward, saying gently in her ear, "We'll head inside whenever you're ready."

She closed her eyes breathing deeply, taking a moment before nodding and squeezing his hands. "Let's go."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Thomas found Ella quite quickly, actually found wasn't exactly right, he literally ran into her. They slammed into each other as she rushed around a corner. He was knocked back a couple of steps along with the wind from his lungs, Ella fell backward, sprawling ungracefully on the floor of the hall with an "Oof!"

"Ella!" He reached down to help her up.

In spite of her position, the moment she recognized him a grin lit the blonde's face, and she breathed, "Thomas." She wasn't even paying attention as he pulled her up, her eyes never leaving him.

The black kerchief she'd been wearing had slipped, falling back on her head; Thomas gently adjusted it back to its proper place.

Ella reached up, hand patting over the cloth, grinning at him sheepishly and he couldn't help smiling at how adorable the expression on her face was.

He ran his fingers down her cheek and she leaned into the caress, basking in the adoration in his gaze.

"Hi." Humor colored his tone as he actually greeted her.

A laugh bubbled from the beautiful woman in his arms. "Hi, yourself," she returned saucily.

The prince snuck a look around them, making sure they were alone, and turned back to her. "So, do I get a kiss hello?"

"Maybe," she teased, arms sliding up around his neck, grinning and leaning toward him.

"'Maybe,'" he mimicked just before their lips met.

Her laugh was muffled by their kiss, her arms tightening around his neck to pull herself closer.

When their lips parted, she grinned. "I missed you." Her hands slid to his shoulders.

"Missed you too." He let his palms skim up and down her upper arms. "I'm sorry about Henry."

All joy drained from her expression, her head dropped, palms falling to rest against his chest. "Gods…I…for a moment…"

"Forgot?" he offered, rubbing her back.

Her eyes lifted to his guiltily. "Does that make me a horrible person?" The only other person she'd ever really known and loved who'd died was her father and it had been so long ago…

"No." Thomas shook his head firmly to emphasize the word. "When my brother David died a few years ago it was a very emotional time for all of us. I felt unbearably sad one moment, something would make me want to burst out laughing the next, then minutes later furious enough to put my fist through the wall, and quite often just…numb."

She glanced toward the window, the uneven diamond-pattern glass distorting the view outside, fracturing it. "I…" She swallowed. "He is–_was_ so kind and caring… He treated me like family even though we hadn't known each other that long."

"Quite often…" the prince canted his head thoughtfully to the side, "it's a matter of the quality of time spent together rather than the quantity."

Her pained blue eyes met his, searching them for something. Finally, apparently finding what she needed, she sighed, letting her body fall forward against him and nodding.

Thomas accepted the weight more than willingly, cradling her form to his chest, the most precious burden in the world to him, quite content not to go anywhere for as long as she needed him to hold her.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Prince James!"

James was about to climb the main stairs but turned at the call. One of the footmen was dashing across the hall toward him. "Yes?" He placed the foot that had been on the first step back on the floor and fully faced the servant.

The flustered man came to a stop in front of the prince, bowing hurriedly. "King Gaspard is nearly through the village."

"Have you told Princess Snow?"

"She's in a meeting with several nobles and she's given strict instruction that she isn't to be disturbed." James had momentarily forgotten that she was dealing with a few particularly quarrelsome lords before the mourning period truly began. "And Queen Regina isn't seeing anyone." His hands were fidgeting at his sides, obviously trying to force himself not to wring them. "Being a ruling monarch, protocol demands–"

"That he be greeted by a member of the royal family," James continued, rubbing his chin.

"We're just not sure what to do."

The prince thoughtfully traced the scar on his chin. "I know King Gaspard, I'll greet him."

"Are you sure…?"

James held up a hand, halting the footman's question. "He's close to Snow and he'll understand the lapse in protocol."

"Thank you," he gasped out, obviously relieved to have the issue taken out of his hands.

The fair-haired prince began making his way to the main doors, calling over his shoulder, "Send a few men out to help with the luggage." He heard the footman acknowledge the order and his feet scurrying off to carry it out.

James was still descending the stairs when the king of Rosewood's carriage and guards pulled up; he came to a stop next to it as Gaspard was easing out of the door. Once the monarch was standing upright, James bowed respectfully. "King Gaspard, it's good to see you again."

A single eyebrow rose on the taller man's forehead, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "Prince James, the feeling is mutual. May I inquire where Snow is?"

The prince had his hands clasped behind his back. "We weren't expecting you for another hour; she's in a meeting with a few nobles, one she couldn't avoid or postpone. Queen Regina has asked not to be disturbed."

"Understandable," Gaspard assured him.

James turned to see two footmen, one of them the one who alerted him to Gaspard's arrival, making their way down the stairs as quickly as they could while maintaining some semblance of dignity. They quickly went to grab the trunk the king's men had removed from the back of the carriage, moving with equal speed and efficiency to carry it up to the castle.

"Your quarters should be ready." The Seaborn heir gestured for the other man to follow him up to the castle.

"Thank you." Gaspard leaned on his cane, limp more pronounced than usual because of the confined ride in the cool, damp weather making his leg ache. The young king glanced at the man next to him. "How is she?"

James glanced down. "Tired, hurting, missing Henry, but now she's letting us help her at least."

Sharp blue eyes scanned over the prince assessingly. "You."

"Sorry?" James frowned in confusion.

"She's letting _you_ help." Gaspard countered. "Or at least you're the reason she's letting others help."

He didn't make eye contact. "How do you figure that?"

"She wouldn't do so otherwise," the king allowed his own gaze to wander their surroundings as well, "not for any of _us_."

James said nothing.

"Snow has always kept most things to herself, Red and I she perhaps will talk to more than others, but on a whole she tends to not want to 'burden' anyone." The wry emphasis he placed on "burden" telegraphed loudly just how much of one Snow _wasn't_.

The prince and king nodded their thanks to the servants who held the doors open for them.

"But you're the same story as well," the young king continued conversationally.

"Is there a point to this analysis?" James inquired uncomfortably, stopping and facing the other man.

Gaspard turned to meet his gaze head on. "Two people so intent on doing everything themselves, usually such a relationship wouldn't work, neither would want to surrender control to the other. But for you and Snow, you are each other's exception. She's the only one you're willing to share your burdens with and vice versa."

It bothered the Seaborn Prince having someone he really didn't know that well be able to read him like an open book, able to read his and Snow's relationship so easily.

"Again, Your Majesty, I inquire if there is a point behind you sharing these observations?"

"Just simply this," Gaspard calmly answered. "Not only does she love you, she trusts you above all others…break that trust and I'll make you wish you were dead."

The two men stared at each other silently for several moments.

"I won't," James finally said, "but if I ever were to…you'd needn't bother…I'd make _myself_ regret being born."

Snow's surrogate big brother nodded. "Good." He shifted to lean both of his hands on his cane. "When will Snow be finished with the idiot nobles who don't have the good grace to leave off their squabbles until she's had time to mourn?"

The prince smirked. "Not for another hour, she made sure they had a time limit and informed them of it."

"I'm glad; she doesn't need to waste any more energy on them than necessary." His eyes scanned the entrance hall. "I heard that Mistress Belle came here with your brother."

"She did."

Gaspard raised an eyebrow at the slight tightening of James' features at his asking after the Seaborn Librarian. "Do you happen to know where she might be?"

Grudgingly, the prince said, "I would guess in the library."

"Thank you." The king bowed his head to James, then turned and headed toward the library.

"Gaspard!"

He stopped and turned back, surprised, and yet not, at the break in protocol.

James' jaw was set, the muscles tightening and then loosening a few times before he finally said, "What you said of Snow…the same goes for Belle."

Gaspard had already respected the future monarch, but in that moment his esteem rose even further. "And what _you_ said applies as well."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Belle was indeed curled up in one of the library's wingback chairs, book open in her lap, fast asleep, when Gaspard found her. Her face was relaxed, peaceful in rest, the shadows that always lurked in her eyes and the ever-present strain on her face absent. That stubborn lock that always refused to stay pulled back fell across her forehead, the curl teasing the corner of her eye. Gaspard longed to reach over and brush those strands back, longed for the right to do that. His heart ached with how lovely she was, how heartbreakingly beautiful with her flawless features.

His hand clenched the handle of his cane, the pain in his knee suddenly more pronounced. What right did _he_ have to pursue her? A broken, crippled man such as him?

She stirred, deep brown eyes fluttering open, gaze going to his, her mouth turning upward into an enchanting smile and dispelling the darker thoughts that had been taking root again in his mind. A responding smile lifted the king's lips.

"Hi," she sleepily greeted.

Gods, he didn't think he could breathe. "Hi." His voice was strained from having to force the word out around the tightness in his throat.

Belle drew her feet out from under her, letting them drop to the floor, groaning from her cramped knees, and her eyes lifted wryly to his. "You would think that I'd learn my lesson and not fall asleep in a chair."

Gaspard chuckled, offering his hand to help her up; she closed her book, accepting the proffered hand.

Without prompting she tucked her hand into his elbow, keeping the book in her other hand. "What time is it?"

He led her through the shelves. "After one o'clock."

"Well, that explains why I'm so hungry." Belle smiled up at him sheepishly. "I missed lunch. I became absorbed in this." She lifted the book.

"I can certainly understand that." He grinned in return. "Well, we can go to the kitchen and throw ourselves on Hannah's mercy."

"Hannah?"

"The cook." They stepped into the hall. "She's been fussing over Snow, Red, Aurora, Eric and myself, and shaking a spoon at us all our lives. She can't stand the thought of someone not getting a proper meal."

A brilliant grin lit her face. "Lead the way."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had a pounding headache after spending the last half hour helping the staff deal with the guests who'd been steadily arriving for the funeral, many of whom weren't particularly patient or polite. The three he'd just left had been haranguing poor Mara with petty issues over the rooms they'd been given. When James had stepped in the nobles had looked to him, expecting that he'd side with them.

They were given a rude awakening call when James had just stared at them and then said, "So let me get this right. The royal family is in mourning for a beloved member, the member whose funeral you're here to attend, and you're whining and making a huge fuss because you didn't get the rooms you wanted…"

The cold, burning glare from his blue eyes had them visibly withering and slinking sulkily off to the quarters they'd each been assigned with no further complaint. Mara had thanked him effusively before gratefully moving off to continue with her work.

He was briskly descending the main stairway when Snow entered with a pretty blonde and Eric just behind them.

"James!" He was pleased to see the smile gracing Snow's face, she met him at the bottom of the staircase, curving her hand into his elbow and leading him forward toward his cousin and her friend.

The Seaborn prince reached out to shake the prince of Seaside's hand. "Eric, it's been a while. Good to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances." He felt Snow's grip tighten; his free hand covered the one she had on his arm, drawing her closer.

"Same here, cousin," the younger man gave a sad smile.

Snow cleared her throat, trying to loosen the tightness that'd settled there. "James, I'd like to introduce you to Aurora." She gestured to the blonde. "Aurora, this is James."

James stepped forward, keeping his hand on Snow's, making sure that she could maintain her grip, not wanting her to lose whatever comfort he could give her when she was so obviously upset. He reluctantly removed his hand from hers, to reach out and accept the one Aurora had extended, bowing over it as she curtseyed.

The princess of Glenbriar watched him with an arched eyebrow as they both straightened, gaze assessing. _Well, this is going to be fun_, he thought wryly as he returned his hand to where Snow's rested.

"Well, Snow, Red was right; I can certainly understand the appeal."

The dark-haired princess choked on laughter, a grin lifted James' mouth at hearing her mirth, and his eyes cut to the golden-haired woman in time to see her wink at him conspiratorially. He nodded, more than willing to take her jabs if it helped the woman he loved, and he knew that he had it coming from Snow's friends, he _was_ the man who had "stolen" her heart.

James turned his eyes to Eric, only to find him smirking and realized that his cousin would be siding with Aurora, Red and Gaspard when it came to Snow.

"Yes," they all turned at the sardonic voice to see Red approaching from the kitchen. "Prince Charming quite lives up to his name."

Snow had her face pressed into his shoulder, hers shaking with repressed laughter at his expense, which James was more than willing to take.

"Now, I'm feeling truly ganged up on," he commented wryly, a faux look of tried patience on his face.

His princess swallowed back her remaining laughter, taking deep breaths to compose herself, then lifting her head to look at her friends. "Your rooms should be ready." She looked questioningly at Red, who nodded confirmation.

Red turned to the visiting prince and princess. "It's your usual rooms; I'm sure you know the way, but I'll walk you both up there anyway."

Eric shook his head amusedly at their snarky friend. "Thank you."

Aurora rolled her eyes, nodding her thanks before turning her attention back to James. "I suppose we'll put the interrogation off until later."

"Oh, goodie," he said with faux enthusiasm.

The blond princess smirked at him as she followed Red.

Snow caught her friend's hand as she passed and squeezed it, her smile grateful.

Aurora gripped her hand back, her grin conveying that she understood her thank you; she then made her way up the stairs after Red and Eric.

When their three friends disappeared upstairs, Snow and James were left alone in the main entranceway. She tugged on his arm, urging him to turn to face her; he gazed at her questioningly.

Snow grinned and, completely ignoring propriety, pulled his lips down to hers. "Thank you," she whispered against his mouth, resting her hand against his heart. "Thank you for letting Aurora tease you to make me laugh."

He grinned, placing one more kiss on her lips before reluctantly releasing her to put an appropriate amount of distance between them.

"Milady?"

They both turned at the call, one of the footmen was hurrying toward them down the stairs.

"Yes?" she inquired, clasping her hands before her.

"Lady Maleficent is about to arrive."

Snow grimaced and muttered softly, "Thanks for small blessings."

James looked at her questioningly.

"I'll be right there," she dismissed the footman, once he was gone she turned to James. "There's some very complicated and messy history between Maleficent and Aurora's family. I'm just grateful that Aurora was already upstairs before she arrived."

"Why is she here?"

"She's Regina's oldest and closest friend, so naturally she'd be here for the funeral."

"Ah."

Snow took his hand in hers for a moment. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course," he promised.

With a soft smile she turned and headed out the doors.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

"I'm sorry, Regina, my dear." Maleficent kissed each of Regina's cheeks.

"Thank you." The queen's reply was subdued. "I miss him very much."

The lady raised a sardonic eyebrow as she took an offered seat. "Please, Regina, no need for the stiff upper lip with me."

The younger woman's gaze went to the windows, blinking hard and repetitively. "It's just very…daunting realizing that I'm truly alone, that once Leopold dies I will have no one."

"You'll have the little princess," she waved a vague hand in Snow's hypothetical direction, making a face, "such as she is."

Regina shook her head as she poured each of them a glass of wine, unable to truly stay still for too long. "You know we aren't close. And now that she's found the man she wants to marry she'll have a life and family of her own after her father's death." Envy colored her voice as she described what was in Snow's future.

"Really?" Maleficent's expression was intrigued. "The little ice princess has finally fallen in love, has she?"

Her friend's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Indeed." Her expression fell, taking a sip of her wine. "At least someone gets to."

"I'm surprised that you're so eager to see her all happily married when you didn't get the same right."

Regina once again stood from the seat she'd taken and paced to the window. "I can't truly begrudge her the happiness she's found. It's not her fault that I never found a love of my own." Her gaze went to the goblet in her hand. "Leopold and I care for each other a great deal, and my marriage to him is certainly better than many other possibilities that could have befallen me."

The blonde winced. "Regina, I didn't mean to bring up–"

The dark-haired woman spun back to her. "It's fine. Life is full of disappointments, we both know that. What matters is making the most of what hand we're dealt."

Maleficent snorted delicately. "Well, you've certainly been better about playing your hand than I."

Regina gave her a look. "You were actually _in love_ with King Stefan when he broke it off after meeting and falling for Leah. You've good reason to feel bitter about such things."

"Your loss is no less than mine," she countered.

Dark eyes turned back to the low, grey sky hanging over the mountains. "Perhaps, but I certainly can't mourn what I've never had."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

James only saw Snow a couple of times over the next few hours, finding himself truly and completely pulled into the preparations and arrangements for the next day and continuing to help with the arriving visitors. He was surprised at the willingness of the staff to take direction from him, to the point where they would actually seek him out for his input.

It was an hour or so before dinner when James ran into Red who was struggling with a pile of linens.

"Let me take a few of those." Without waiting for her consent he grabbed the majority of the stack.

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Pain in the ass noble streak."

He smirked at her, unapologetic as he followed her to the linen closet, but then his expression turned curious. "I do have a question."

She cast him an acknowledging glance over her shoulder as she opened the closet. "Yes?"

"The staff…" he followed her in, still formulating how he wanted to word what he needed to say, "they've been very…accepting of…me."

Piling the sheets on the shelves, a smirk of her own was playing at her lips; she wasn't going to make things any easier for him.

"I mean," he placed the items in his arms wherever she indicated, "they follow what I say and come to me as if…"

Ok, maybe she'd help him a little. "As if you're a member of the family?" Her gaze met his, humor alight in her hazel orbs.

"Yes. I was just…wondering why?"

"James." She turned, leaning back against one of the shelves, arms crossed over her chest. "I don't know how…aware your family and people, your kingdom, are of your feelings for Snow. Here, at least among the villagers and the castle staff, it's no secret."

His expression was sheepish. "We're that obvious?"

"More than, but we also know her very well. All we're waiting for is the proposal which we know will be soon. In the minds of most you're already Snow's fiancé, and with her being overwhelmed, Queen Regina unavailable, and King Leopold still recovering you're the next in line, so to speak. They're looking to you as their future prince."

Swallowing hard, James' eyes dropped to his hands. "I'm…honored. And humbled by their trust."

Red gazed at him levelly. "You know the trust isn't just about following your orders and looking to you. We're trusting you with our princess, something infinitely more precious."

He met her pointed look. "I know." This had been pressed on him multiple times since yesterday. He accepted that there were going to be many people cautioning him and being protective of her, but he hoped that they understood that he'd rather cut out his own heart than hurt her.

She braced her hands on a shelf, tapping it thoughtfully with one finger; deciding something, she reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She ran her fingers over the creased edges before stepping forward and holding it out to him.

He accepted it, looking at her questioningly. "What's this?"

"A week or so ago I went up to her room, looking for a paper she needed…I found that tucked in a book." Her hands rubbed up and down her upper arms. "Just thought you…needed to see it." Without another word she left the room.

For several moments James stared at the empty doorway, his eyes eventually dropped to the paper in his hands, he turned it over a few times, debating whether to read it or not. It was obviously something personal of Snow's and it was wrong to invade her privacy, but he knew Red too well to think she'd give something like this to him without good reason. Finally he forced himself to unfold it.

_My Beloved Charming,_

_I don't think I can ever convey how much I miss you, how nothing really feels right with you not here…_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Aurora had only seen Maleficent a handful of times, mostly when she was visiting Snow and the woman happened to be there to see Regina. The first time she'd met her father's ex-fiancée she'd been about six and Maleficent had sneered at her before turning to Queen Leah and saying, "So the little brat takes after the whore." Her mother had rushed her away, horrified that her child had been treated thus. Every meeting since had been equally _pleasant_, though for the most part Maleficent just looked down her nose at the princess, who glared back at her.

The Glenbriar princess had no intention of making a scene over the woman's presence at the funeral, she was after all Regina's best friend and Aurora would _never _begrudge a person comfort after losing someone they loved. But the sight of Maleficent put her teeth on edge, she'd compressed her lips so tightly that she wondered if they would be stuck that way. She purposely kept her gaze turned from the woman, trying to keep from seeing her and having her ire flare. Maleficent seemed to be equally determined to keep the peace and was ignoring her entirely, instead focusing on the queen, who was much more reserved than usual.

The dining hall was unsurprisingly rather subdued and quieter than one would expect for the size of the gathering. Rather than following the usual custom of seating people according to rank, instead those the queen and princess wanted near them were granted seats around the bereaved family members, Everland being one of the kingdoms that broke with tradition during funerals for the grieving members comfort. Snow was to Regina's right with Maleficent to her left; there were a couple of nobles who'd been good friends with Henry and Regina long before she married the king just to the other side of the blonde. Gaspard had unobtrusively taken the second seat down from Snow, leaving the one next to her free, into which James of Seaborn had slid without comment or ceremony, but making a bold statement loud and clear and setting more than a few tongues wagging around the table.

Aurora's eyebrow rose as she took the chair on the other side of Gaspard. "You've given your approval," she murmured into her friend's ear. "I'm surprised it was granted so soon."

"She needs him," he countered in just as low a tone. "That's all that matters right now, but yes, we did come to an understanding…on both of our parts." His head tilted subtly toward Belle, who was taking the seat next to Aurora, Thomas and Liam protectively placed on her other side.

The Glenbriar Princess' eyebrows shot to her hairline, she hadn't expected that either. They'd all observed how protective Thomas was of the librarian while they were in Rosewood, and the prince had assured them that James was even _worse_. She dearly wished that she'd met her friend's suitor under better circumstances, she'd have loved to give him the hell appropriate for him stealing her dear friend's heart and grill him about why he was letting Gaspard off the hook so easily. Perhaps she could at least properly interrogate him tomorrow before the funeral or during the dinner that night. She could do with the distraction.

The last week had been terrible, on top of losing Henry her parents had informed her that Prince Philip would be arriving for a visit in a couple of weeks. Her jaw clenched at the thought. This was one of the last things she'd wanted to hear, but her mother and father had been pleased and relieved. They'd long hoped that the betrothal would work out, while Aurora had quietly hoped that he'd lose interest or that she'd fall in love with another.

"Aurora," Belle quietly inquired from beside her, concern obvious, "are you all right?"

She forced a smile for the petite brunette. "I'm fine."

"She's angry because Philip is going to be coming for a visit soon after she arrives home," Gaspard interjected low enough that only they would hear.

Belle's eyebrows flew up while the blond princess glared at her friend.

"You know, people really don't like it when you show off how you know _everything_ that's going on," Aurora hissed.

"Between you and Prince Philip I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about and an overflowing well of angst to deal with." The young king's voice was mild and conversational as he continued to eat.

Aurora had been trying to burn holes into her friend when a movement just beyond him drew her attention. They'd been keeping their voices down, but as Prince James' eyes met hers she knew that he'd heard their conversation and in his gaze she could see he wanted to say something, but was holding back. Why?

The question must have registered in her eyes because the prince pointedly allowed his blue gaze to sweep the guests at the table around them before returning to her and shaking his head.

A hand resting upon her own pulled her attention away from the Seaborn heir, who had already turned back to the grieving princess beside him. Belle's calm brown eyes met hers; the young librarian seemed to consider for a moment what she wanted to say.

"Don't… Try not to hold onto childhood grudges with Philip or believe all of the rumors. He–he's not who most people think…" She trailed off, as if wondering if she'd said too much, she turned to the prince and general on her other side who'd studiously been pretending not to hear their conversation. Thomas simply reached up and gently squeezed her hand for a moment in support. Belle released the breath she'd been holding and returned to her meal.

The blonde frowned; she supposed it was natural for Belle to defend a man who, according to Thomas, had been like another brother to her. But still, she was thrown and confused by her words and James' actions.

There was a stir around the table; Aurora looked up to see Snow rising from her seat, all the men automatically doing the same out of respect. The princess waved for them to resume their seats before stepping away, pushing her seat in. She stopped beside her stepmother, laying a hand on her shoulder and softly spoke to the woman. Aurora assumed she asked her a question because the queen responded with a shake of her head and the princess could read Regina's lips well enough to determine that she said "thank you." Aurora couldn't help the surprise that lit her face at the interaction, it was rare that Snow and Regina were civil to each other, but her friend's actions were far more solicitous than she'd ever seen directed toward her stepmother, and the queen was equally obliging in her response. The blond princess wondered how this would bode for their future relationship.

After a couple of minutes Belle leaned around Aurora so that she could see Gaspard. "King Gaspard," he turned, giving her his attention, "may I ask you to escort me to the library and show me that book you mentioned earlier?"

"Of course." Gaspard wiped his mouth with his napkin and laid it on the table, then turned to the queen. "With your leave, Your Majesty?"

Regina waved her permission.

The king rose with the aid of his cane, offering his arm to the librarian who accepted it, and with their exit, smoothed the way for James to request his leave of dinner with at least a _little_ less speculative, scandalized whispering.

"Very nice," Aurora murmured, impressed with the librarian's ability to play the petty political games of the nobility, even without being of them herself. This, the princess thought decisively, would serve her well if things continued to progress between Gaspard and the Seaborn Librarian.

A half-stifled snort escaped Liam, drawing Aurora's attention and a wince from Thomas, who less than discreetly kicked his friend under the table, easily following where the general's mind had gone.

The princess leveled a hard stare at Liam. "I would think after all the time you've spent among Court you'd be able to rein in your thoughts and reactions."

An unrepentant grin crossed his face. "Nope."

Sky blue eyes narrowed. "Red's going to give you hell for that."

If anything his grin became wider. "I'm looking forward to it."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was glad to be away from the table, it'd helped having her friends being those closest to her and Charming right next to her, but the environment had been stifling and rife with gossip. She was glad to have had James beside her but in Gaspard giving up this traditional spot as surrogate brother to a man whom the nobles hadn't a clue Snow was in love with had the rumor mill going wild. To say the least it was a rather scandalous situation, and Snow was endlessly grateful that Regina had either not noticed their guests acting all abuzz or had chosen to ignore it.

She opened the door to her father's room–she had used checking on him as an excuse to leave the table so early, but she'd truly been concerned as well. Henry's sudden death had unsettled her greatly and with her father's health being so fragile she was much more wary of going for long periods without seeing him.

The king was fast asleep, he didn't even stir when she opened the door; Ella looked up from the book she was reading in the chair at his bedside, giving Snow a quiet smile.

"How is he?" the worried daughter questioned, keeping her voice low, so as not to disturb her father.

The blonde rested the volume in her lap, a finger saving her place. "Slowly improving, according to Doc." Blue eyes turned to the sleeping monarch. "He's been resting a lot, which is a good thing."

Snow nodded, gaze still on her father. "Are you going to be sitting with him all night?" Finally she turned to her friend.

"No, with the temperature dipping like it has been, Doc wants to be here at night to keep an especially close eye on him."

Worry creased the princess' brow as she came to stand beside the king.

Ella reached out to take her friend's hand, drawing her gaze. "He's doing well, Snow," she reiterated. "He's been gaining strength, day by day."

"I know," she sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over her face, unable to erase the concern there.

The younger woman squeezed her hand. "Go get some sleep, Snow. Tomorrow is going to be a long, emotional day. You'll be able to sit with him as much as you like over the next few weeks."

Snow nodded, the ease of her acquiescence telling Ella just how tired the princess still was, she returned the affectionate grip before releasing it and bending down to brush the a kiss, lighter than a butterfly's wing, over her father's forehead. "Have Doc get me if there's any change."

"Of course," Ella assured her.

"Thank you." Snow's words were fervent and brought a responding smile to the blonde's face.

"I'm more than happy to."

Finally forcing herself from the room, Snow closed the door behind her and headed down the hall toward her own quarters, thinking to change and then head to James' room, not wanting to spend the night in an empty bed.

She gasped in surprise when she opened her door to find Prince Charming sitting on her bed, elbows resting on knees, hands loosely linked between them, waiting for her. His blue eyes met her emerald ones the moment she stepped through the doorway.

"Charming," she managed to breathe, barely having the presence of mind to close the door to avoid any possible passers-by seeing them together in her room.

"Snow," he greeted, a ghost of a smile flickering over his expression.

Her hands twisted nervously in front of her, she'd often imagined James with her in her room, but the reality sent her pulse racing in a still rather unexpected way and warmed her cheeks. It was unspeakably intimate having him in the room she'd grown up in, in many ways she felt like a teenager who'd snuck a boy up to her room like she'd heard some of the village girls talk of doing. "I hadn't expected to find you in here. I was going to go to your room after I changed…"

He'd already divested himself of his dark burgundy, suede doublet, it lay draped over the bench in front of her vanity. James reached into his shirt on the left side and withdrew a folded parchment, slowly he opened it. "A friend who was _very_ concerned about you gave this to me shortly before dinner." He held it out to her. "They found it by accident, and felt I should see it."

Snow accepted the paper from him, a curious frown on her face, wondering what was on it that made him so grave. Her eyes dropped to the words, and she was instantly bowled over with memories of pain, anguish bleeding from every line on the parchment. The letter crumpled slightly as she pressed it against her abdomen, gaze on the floor. "You weren't meant to see this."

His eyes remained level on her. "_You_ didn't mean for me to see it," James countered. "But I think I _was_ meant to…that I had a right to." His hands clenched together. "Why didn't you _tell_ me, Snow?"

"You were busy at home and I didn't want to bother you with silly nightmares." The emotions from that night hit her anew, she struggled to force them back, one of her hands automatically rising to pull out the ring from beneath her dress and spin it around her finger on the chain.

"From what that letter says and the way you're acting I somehow doubt that they're 'silly,'" he shot back grimly.

"I wasn't in danger." Her voice was weak even to her own ears, but she continued. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to rush here at the drop of a hat to soothe away my bad dreams. Not when you had more important things to do."

"Snow," frustration was thick in his tone, he bowed his head, hands clenching and unclenching, "when are you going to understand that _nothing_ is more important to me than you?"

"Your father and your kingdom–"

"My father and I have issues that we're working out, but that doesn't hold a candle to you. My kingdom…" James shook his head. "I don't _care_ about becoming a king, the kingdom survived long before me and it will carry on just fine without me."

"Charming…" Wide green eyes were unable to look away from him, even as tears began to sting the corners of them.

"I've been working with Thomas to make arrangements for the possibility that Midas might take offense." His cerulean gaze was unwavering on her. "I'll abdicate, insist on father disowning me entirely if necessary, then Midas can no longer take offense with my kingdom and I will certainly hardly be worth the effort. Thomas has spoken with Ella and she has agreed that, if necessary, they can become engaged sooner so that Midas won't turn his attention to my brother. He will become the heir to Seaborn's throne and I will be free to marry you."

Her heart was turning over in her chest at all he'd done and was willing to do just so that he could be with her. Snow swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

"I'm more than willing to disappoint and anger my father and abandon my right to the throne because all I want is to be with _you_." His words were passionate, earnest, gaze mirroring his voice. "You're all I want and need in this world."

A tear finally escaped down Snow's cheek, it took all of her concentration to keep her legs from giving out from under her at the raw passion and love in his gaze.

"You were angry with me in Lochdubh because I didn't talk to you, because I didn't discuss important things with you that affected both of us." Pain flashed in his blue eyes. "But you just did the exact same thing. In trying to spare me the pain of hearing how you were suffering through what were obviously terrible nightmares, you actually hurt me more."

That was a kick to her stomach. "I didn't want you to worry when you couldn't be here…"

"Snow," he slowly shook his head, "it hurts more finding out after the fact that you were in such agony and I did _nothing_. If you had told me I at least could have written, I would've of course tried to visit, but if something had prevented me from being here in person I could've at least offered what comfort I could through writing. But I did nothing."

"It wasn't your fault," she tried to reassure him.

"Snow, in my mind, you're already my _wife_," her heart skipped a beat at hearing him call her that, "and in my world that means I do everything in my power to keep you from hurting. I don't mean to belittle your own abilities, you're very capable of taking care of yourself, but I love you and every instinct I possess tells me to protect you, to be there for you in any way I can if you're hurting. Even if it's _just_ nightmares.'"

Tears streamed down her face as she moved to the fire, staring into the flames but not seeing them, still clutching the letter, which was now wrinkled and creased beyond repair, to her stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Promise me you won't keep something like this from me again?" Pain strained his voice. "I don't think my heart could take it."

Snow turned to face him. "I promise." Her eyes dropped to the floor again, unable to take the pain and disappointment in his gaze, she turned back to the fire, trying to get lost in the ever-shifting light from it.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, drawing her back against her beloved Charming's chest; her eyes slid shut at his lips pressing to her temple.

"I love you, Snow." The words rumbled from his chest into her ear. "I will love you for all eternity. As soon as you're out of the morning period I will return and place my mother's ring on your finger. I will declare to the whole world that you're mine and I'm yours, now and forever."

"I love you too," she whispered, voice shaking badly at him telling her just what she'd said she needed to hear in the letter, body leaning into the comfort and strength of his.

"Tell me about the dreams?"

There was a beat of silence.

"We were in a castle we called ours, though I did not recognize it. I'd just given birth…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~

Cinnamon hot chocolate if you can guess where the title of the chapter comes from. :-D I hope that you guys liked it! I've been so excited for Maleficent's arrival, and for our first real look into Aurora's thoughts and Regina's. Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!


	21. Chapter 18: Two Roads Diverged in a

YES! It is finally here! XD SO much happened in this chapter, and much that I didn't necessarily expect! XD I hope that the wait was worth it! :-D Thank you EVERYONE for all of the reviews, faves, alerts, tweets, posts, messages, gif attacks, etc... XD And thank you for the support through losing my grandfather. :-) No words can express.

To my lovely dartie and beta, SassySnow! ;-D Thank you for being the best dartie EVER! XD

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

**Chapter 18: Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood…**

"You know that the moment they realize we've slept together Snow and James are going to give us _such_ hell."

At Liam's wry comment Red pressed her lips to his bare chest. "We'll survive." She snuggled deeper into his embrace.

His fingers traced patterns over her hip, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. "I missed this," he quietly told her. "I missed _you_."

"Our memories were reset." There was an old, familiar vulnerability in her voice.

He kissed her temple. "I may not have known what I was missing, but I felt your absence."

Her arm tightened around his chest. "I missed you too."

_She'd needed to get away from the castle; Snow was with James, so she knew her sister would be all right. Things were under control with the staff, Granny was asleep at the inn, Ella had returned home for the night and Doc was sitting with the king. Red could finally take time for herself, time to deal with the last few days…_

_As she plopped down on the edge of the lake's dock, the young woman buried her face in her hands. The memory of carrying Henry's body flashed through her, sending a shudder over her frame. Hazel eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to block out the image, but that only made it stronger, so they snapped back open. She gazed down at the rippling surface of the lake, hands dipping into the water and scrubbing against each other, trying to rid themselves of the feeling of Henry's cold, still weight._

"_Not thinking of jumping in, are you?"_

_It was a testament to how lost she was in her thoughts that Liam had approached without her noticing. Red turned to see the man who'd managed to steal her heart, no matter how hard she'd tried to safeguard it from him. "A little cold for a swim this late in the year." She hugged her red cloak tighter around her. "Fall comes early here."_

_Liam grinned sardonically, sitting down beside her. "So I've noticed." His blue-eyed gaze became pointed. "What's wrong?"_

_Her mouth opened for a moment…and then closed again, she returned her gaze to the lake._

_Liam tapped a finger on the dock, debating, and then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "I'm not from here."_

_Red frowned at him in confusion. "From Everland…? I know…"_

_He shook his head. "No, from this world." He waved a hand around them. "This reality, whatever you want to call it. I'm from a different one…" a mirthless chuckle escaped him, "a _very_ different one."_

_Hazel eyes widened to the size of saucers. "You're a world jumper?!"_

_A wry smirk twisted Liam's lips. "Not exactly…voluntarily." He loosely laced his fingers. "I was born into a world that either had no magic or very little of it, for if there was any I'd never seen it there. It was a rather dreary place, if I remember correctly. I had a younger brother, Gerhardt, who was everything I wasn't, everything our father wanted in a son… My father was a powerful man, titled and a decorated officer in the military. My mother was lovely, kind and gentle…" his eyes went to his hands, "and understanding of her elder son who was less than enthusiastic about fighting and much more interested in science."_

_Red's eyebrows shot toward her hairline. "But you're James' best general!"_

_He gave her sad facsimile of his usual grin. "I am here and now." He looked away again. "I wasn't then. Not even remotely interested in any such thing. My father always blamed me for my mother's death. I was ten; she was helping me with one of my experiments in a rainstorm, which caused the illness that took her life."_

_She shook her head. "You were a child! She was your mother! She just wanted to help you with what you loved!"_

_Liam reached over, brushing a curl behind her ear. "She would've liked you."_

_A rare blush stole across her face. "How do you know?"_

_His characteristic grin lit his expression. "Because you're exactly what she said I needed. Fiery, fiercely loyal, loving, you get my sense of humor and I get yours, and you have no problem with putting me in my place when needed." He leaned forward confidingly. "I don't know if you've noticed but I can be a bit arrogant."_

_Red snorted. "Not in the least."_

_He winked at her. "Good to know I'm hiding it so well."_

_She laughed softly. "So, how did you end up here?"_

_His expression sobered, looking away again. "I became obsessed with finding a way to bring my mother back. Burying myself in my science books, searching for an answer." He clasped his hands together, the knuckles white with how tightly he gripped them. "My father had been calling me a monster since the day my mother died. I just…wanted to prove him wrong…prove to him that I could give life and bring the light back to our family. Gerhardt tried to pull me out of it, tried to get me to accept what'd happened, even if Father couldn't. But the more bitter our father grew toward me, the more determined I was to 'fix' what I'd done."_

_Red covered his hands with hers, needing to comfort him somehow._

"_I came up with an idea, a way to bring people back from the dead and I went to my father to tell him, to show him…" His eyes closed against the pain. "He backhanded me and told me I was unnatural. My mother was dead, it was _my_ fault and _nothing _my 'foolish tinkerings' came up with could change that." He turned his gaze to hers. "I didn't stop, but I realized there was one thing he was right about…I couldn't bring my mother back that way, she'd been dead too long. So I began trying to find another way…" A frown creased his brow. "I meddled in things best left alone."_

_Apprehension curled through Red, Liam's speech patterns had slowly been changing as he spoke of his past, his accent altered slightly. It felt like her Liam was slipping away from her…and she didn't like it. However, she couldn't stop him, she wanted to know about him, his past, what it was he so needed to tell her._

"_I found this…item. I'm still not sure what it was, though I now know it must have been magical. I used it to build a machine that I hoped would allow me to travel back in time to save my mother. I realize now that even if I had succeeded there's a very good possibility I could've wrecked things worse, stories of time travel abound in both that world and this about all that can go wrong. I switched it on and was sucked inside… I woke up in the forest less than a mile from Seaborn Castle to James shaking me and asking me if I was all right. David kept saying they should 'detain' me for 'trespassing.'"_

_The familiar humor colored his expression and tone, easing the disquiet in Red, she grinned at him in return. "I can imagine it easily."_

"_Yes, very much the two of them. James making sure everyone is all right, even if he doesn't know they're good or not. David charging headlong into a situation, sword drawn." He nodded definitively. "And that's why most of us have always known James would be a better king than David would've." His gaze met hers. "David was the fighter, which is what made him a great prince. James is the protector, which is what will make him a great king."_

_Red tilted her head thoughtfully. "I never thought of it like that, but you're right. From what I've heard of David, James is much better suited to ruling."_

"_David liked his freedom, doing as he pleased, fighting creatures and battles." Liam grinned wryly. "You don't really get to do that much as a king. Not if you want to be a good one."_

_She nodded her agreement, then, wanting to hear the rest, asked, "What happened after you woke up?"_

_"Well, as usual James reined in David's...enthusiasm and asked me how I suddenly appeared out of thin air. The first words out of my mouth were, 'Where the hell am I?' Needless to say there was quite a bit of arguing and shouting before I finally agreed to follow them back to the castle to see if their father could figure out what happened. It took most of the rest of the day but eventually we worked out what had happened. While inquiries were being sent out I ended up living with James and his family."_

_Liam smiled. "Queen Ruth is a lot like my mother, which made me both more homesick and comforted me as I hadn't been since her death. James invited me to run around with him and his friends and attend his lessons." He gripped the edge of the dock tightly. "James saw other ways to employ my intellect, that my analytical and creative mind was perfectly suited to strategy as well as the sciences. He started dragging me into his lessons on battle tactics; his teachers were impressed with my performance and encouraged me to continue attending. I did, but of course my focus was still getting home."_

_"You wanted to get back to your family." Red nodded understandingly._

_"Actually," he gave her a wry grin, "one thing the two months, at that point, away had given me was some clarity and I realized the validation I'd been looking for from my father would never come, no matter what I did. No, at that point I just needed to be sure Gerhardt, my little brother, was all right, the same way I'd seen James checking on Thomas and looking after him. That's why I needed to find a way home."_

_Liam took a deep breath. "One day a crone showed up saying that she might be able to help, and insisted on speaking to me alone. She told me she could return me to my world but that there were things I needed to consider before I decided to leave. She said if I returned to my world I would live out my days mostly alone, declared mad by the world with only my brother and his family as occasional company. If I were to stay here I could pursue all of my interests without ridicule, and truly do some good and save lives._

"_I of course asked about my brother and father, she showed me them in an orb. My father had destroyed my equipment and moved on with barely a hiccup in his life, if he worried about or missed me he didn't show it. Gerhardt missed me and was still hoping for my return, but he was excelling in military school, top of his class and, other than missing me, happy. The crone told me he'd grow up to be a great hero and marry a lovely woman who would give him many children. I was wavering and she knew it so she drew her ace... In the months I'd been here I had naturally heard about True Love, even met a few couples who had it." His gaze met Red's. "She told me that if I stayed, I would find True Love. I was only fourteen but I was old enough to know that when I grew up that was what I wanted."_

_Her heart skipped a beat._

"_I asked if it was possible to send my brother a message; I sent a letter through a portal she conjured, telling Gerhardt I was all right and happy but that we won't be able to see each other again, that he shouldn't look for me. I told him I loved him and wanted him to live his life, long, happy and full. That it was for the best that I left and stayed gone."_

_Red tangled her fingers with his, supporting him wordlessly._

"_Afterward, the crone and I exited the sitting room where we'd been and told James and his family that we couldn't make it work. I asked if I could remain with them, which they agreed to after some pleading from James and Thomas. From then on I was raised side-by-side with the princes; David used to call me the 'professor' because I outdid them all in academics and often ended up tutoring them in various subjects. I'm not the strongest at pure fighting but James and our instructors said my strengths in other areas made up for that, that being a great fighter wasn't the most necessary element to leadership. So with their encouragement I worked hard and when the time came, even though I wasn't the most skilled with a sword, I was chosen to advance to general._

"_But along with my military career I was able to freely pursue my interests in science." He smirked amusedly. "Belle's father, Maurice, and I have a rather grand time working together on projects and often causing…_small_ explosions."_

_The image his description prompted drew a round of laughter from Red._

_Liam's face showed his enjoyment of her mirth. "And now," his expression became pointed, "One monster to another, what's wrong?"_

_Something niggled in the backs of their minds at the words "one monster to another." Red started pulling her hands from his, but he caught them, refusing to let her move away. She continued to stare across the water, trying to ignore his unwavering gaze._

_Without her permission the story spilled from her like a dam breached. Granny waking her in the dead of night, running to Lucy's, carrying Henry's body with Snow, her sister's detachment, the sick worry..._

_She drew her palms from his to scrub them together, again attempting to rid herself of the memory of Henry's cold, slack skin against hers._

_Liam catching her hands again in his stilled her movements._

_Hazel eyes slowly lifted to meet blue. "We failed her." She whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek. "We-_I_ failed Snow. My sister. My princess."_

_"No, you haven't." He shook his head, gaze unwavering from hers. "She's just inside." Liam nodded to the castle. "You haven't failed her."_

_"We didn't protect her. _I_ didn't protect her!" Red pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. "She's my best friend, my family! She is my monarch and I didn't do anything to keep her from having to bear such a terrible burden!"_

"_Snow wouldn't have it any other way."_

"_How do you know?" she snapped, suddenly glaring at him._

"_Because James would've done the same and not wanted to be kept in the dark." His gaze remained level. "He'd want to take care of the situation himself."_

_It took a few moments before Red was able to pull her eyes from his, looking out over the lake again._

_Liam gently captured her chin, turning her face back to his. "Snow's all right. There're still things you _can_ fix."_

"Maybe there's still some stuff you _can_ fix."

_Her head snapped up, the waft of a memory, said in her voice, though not-her-voice. There was almost a sadder, more world-weary tone to it._

_His eyes were on hers, as wide as her own._

_The moment, an…almost-memory, nagged at them both._

_Red's eyes narrowed as they bored into his, hard, trying to cut through the haze obscuring something she knew she needed to know. Something teasing just at the edges of her mind._

_Abruptly, Liam cupped the back of her neck and smashed her lips to his._

_It was a spiral of memories, both theirs and yet _not-theirs_._

"I wasn't such a bad guy, you know. I wanted to bring life back. But he never got over our mother. If I could've just brought _her_ back–"

"That guy in the hospital–someone keeps calling for him. Maybe a wife, a mother. Maybe there's still some stuff you _can_ fix."

Her clear-sighted gaze that seemed to see through any pretense easier than through glass.

"I wanted my name to stand for life. But everybody just thinks it's the name of a monster. I guess they're right about that. Rumplestiltskin says that magic has a price, but from where I'm sitting, seems that science does, too. Every time I try to save a life, someone else dies."

Their lips touching for the first time, the shock…the _rightness_ of it.

"Hey. Yeah. Look, you're Frankenstein, and I'm the werewolf. I _ate_ my boyfriend. Regina thought she was punishing us by erasing who we were. But I think she underestimated how much crap we wanted to forget."

His sardonic, arrogant smirk that drove her crazy…because she knew the only reason he wore it around her was _to_ drive her crazy.

"_But_…we _can't_ let it _stop_ us. She gave us a chance to start over, and I wanna take it. I think you should too."

"Thank you. Monster to monster."

_The pulled apart gasping, eyes wide and searching each other's._

"_Ruby?"_

_A smile lifted her lips. "Victor!"_

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The dark wood of Snow's canopy bed contrasted starkly with the pure white of the bed curtains and linens. The mattress was plush under them, giving the illusion of lying in a snow drift in a forest. James had drawn them down onto the bed after Snow had finished telling him about her dreams; tears streaming down her face, he'd held her tightly, murmuring soothingly to her until the trembling in her frame subsided. Her fingers now idly traced patterns across James' chest, while his own caressed up and down her back.

"Who gave you the letter?"

He'd been expecting the question ever since he handed her the letter, now lying oh-so-innocently on the bedside table. "Red accidentally found it when you sent her to find some papers in your room." He could see the frown lines creasing her forehead. "It fell out of a book apparently, and she looked at it to see if it was what she was looking for."

It took Snow a minute or so before she remembered the time James referred to, Red had returned from her search with the missing document–and apparently the letter tucked away. Something she recalled now, looking back, that didn't register at the time, was the worry that shone even brighter in Red's eyes. She wanted to be angry about the invasion of her privacy, but she was the one who asked Red to go looking around her desk, and she was the one who forgot to destroy the letter. And Snow knew Red too well to ever believe anything malicious behind giving the letter to Charming. She was just a concerned friend/sister who wanted James to fix the pain Snow was feeling. As she would do for Red.

Snow pressed a kiss to her lover's fabric-covered chest. "I know she didn't mean anything but to help. And you're right that I should have told you. But I still feel like my privacy was invaded. And I don't like having things taken out of my hands like this."

James buried his nose in her hair. "Well I guess the lessons to be learned here are to not keep things from each other...and not to let others have access to your desk."

She sorted and swatted his chest at the teasing. His princess lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest, smirking. "Oh, and I don't know who you were trying to fool earlier, saying you'd comfort me by letter. We both know you wouldn't have stayed still for as long as it took to saddle Cain."

His smirk mirrored hers, fingers stroking her cheek. "I admit nothing." His expression turned serious. "When does your mourning period end?"

Snow's face fell, she turned her head so that her ear was once more pressed over his heart, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "One month, one week and one day... I'll be out of mourning the day before the fall equinox."

Over a month. Over a month before he could propose to his Snow. "How stringent are the rules of your mourning period?"

"Very." Her fingertips drew meaningless patterns over his heart. "We aren't permitted any visitors from outside our kingdom who aren't related. We do not see any of the local nobility unless they're family and are visiting only as such. And we aren't to see any of the common folk on matters of business. The only exceptions are in extreme conditions."

James knew that the rules of the morning period were for the royal family's sake, to give them time to properly grieve and to protect them from having their grief taken advantage of. But that didn't mean he wasn't hating the thought of not being able to see her for that period.

"Midas sent word that he won't be able to meet for three weeks." His arms tightened around her. "I couldn't propose until after that anyway." He wasn't sure whom he was trying to convince, or even what he was trying to convince them of.

Snow didn't say anything for several moments. "There is a small cottage, only three rooms, it's about ten miles from here, tucked away in the woods and mountains. My family would use it when on hunting trips."

His palm, which had been skimming up and down her back, stilled.

She lifted her head again to meet his gaze. "I'm not permitted to leave the kingdom, but I'm allowed to spend a few days away from the castle, within our boarders."

A half smile pulled at his mouth, fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek. "Eric was talking about Thomas and I coming for a visit. It's been many years since we've been to Seaside."

Snow was grinning. "Returning to either Seaborn or Riverdon, Everland is on one of the possible routes."

James chuckled, kissing her. "Red's right. We really do meet clandestinely far too often."

A yawn-mingled laugh escaped his love.

He carded his fingers through her curls, coaxing her to rest her head back on his chest. "Sleep, my darling."

"Mmm..." Snow cuddled against his side, lips curved in a sleepy but content smile, arm hugging his middle. "Love you, Charming."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you too, Princess."

James listened to her breathing as it slowed to the steady, peaceful pattern that signaled she was asleep. Snow's face was relaxed, free of the lines of grief or worry that'd resided there during the last few days. And no furrow of distress on her brow or twist of fear to her features from dreams where he abandoned her, either unwillingly by death or, for some unfathomable reason, willfully for another woman.

His eyes went to her letter on the table, remembering when he first read it.

_He forced himself to unfold it._

My Beloved Charming,

_James would never tire of her calling him that._

I don't think I can ever convey how much I miss you, how nothing really feels right with you not here. I don't want to make you feel guilty or pressured, I do not write this to make you feel so. I just have to at least write it down somewhere. You may never even read this…I'll probably not send it, I don't want you to feel bad, it's not your fault. I'm not even making sense.

_The smile that had lit his features at her greeting gradually slid off of his face throughout reading the first paragraph._

The days are fine, good even. I keep busy and I'm enjoying spending time with our friends and working around the castle and village. I'm generally happy, but I'm always missing you. I'll want to tell you something, or do something with you, I'll want your opinion, or just want you to be there in a meeting where a noble is being particularly pompous and long-winded to lean over and mutter something to me, making me nearly burst out laughing, even though it would be completely inappropriate, and making all of those stuffy nobles wonder what on Earth has us so amused. But you're not there. In those frequent moments it's hard, but usually something comes along and I am distracted for a while at least.

_He was eased to hear that her days were at least bearable, but at the same time he hated knowing that they weren't good for her, that she wasn't happy. He _hated_ that she wasn't happy._

The nights are hell.

_Ice settled in his gut._

I don't sleep much, if at all, and in the silence and solitude of the night I feel the loneliness most keenly. But it's worst when I actually do sleep. I have nightmares.

_James' jaw locked._

Nightmares as real as the dreams we've talked about. Ones where you're dead or dying in my arms, so still; your blood staining both of our clothing and the floor beneath us and your lips so cold under mine, believing that I will never see your eyes open and look up at me again.

_It took several swallows to get past the lump in his throat. He could easily imagine her pain over believing him dead, even for a moment…even in a dream._

Ones with places and things I don't recognize, calling each other names not our own and you saying that you cannot be with me. Gods, I can't breathe!

_He could feel the pain, heartbreak, and even betrayal that laced that line, the memory of those dreams, hitting James in the gut like a battering ram._

I want–no, I _need_ you so badly when I awake from those nightmares. I need you to hold me, to hear your heart beating, feel your skin warm under my fingers. To have you tell me that you love me and that you will for all eternity, that you will put this ring on my finger and we'll be together forever.

_Tears pressed behind his eyes, stinging, burning. Pain wrenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his beloved in the moments she was writing these words…but he couldn't._

Come for me, James. Find me. Find me like you promised you always would.

I love you, for all eternity.

With all my heart,

Your Snow

_He had to fight so that his fingers wouldn't crumple the letter under them. Love, pain, betrayal, frustration all warred within him. _Why hadn't she _told_ him?!

Cerulean eyes continued to stare unwaveringly at the letter. If one didn't know the contents, it was so innocent, simply a piece of paper. For those who didn't love Snow, some might mock her words, or not appreciate the depth of feeling poured into them. And yet others might use those words against her.

With painstaking care, James eased her from his chest; she moaned discontentedly, fingers tightening on his shirt. He placed loving kisses across her face, gently prying her hands from him. "I'll be right back."

Snow still frowned, but calmed under his ministrations and allowed him to leave the bed.

James took the letter from the bedside table and moved to the fire. His fingers creased it thoughtfully, eyes following his own movements, before laying the paper in the flames. He watched it burn, making sure that it was entirely consumed before returning to the bed and Snow. Both of their "sins" against each other were erased, forgiven by each other entirely. They would learn from their mistakes and move on, no need to ever bring them up again. They were cast into the depths of the sea, James mused as he slowly drifted into sleep. He couldn't remember where he read or heard that but it was apropos.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Aurora was glad that none of the sleeping quarters were near the kitchen, otherwise the noise she made from banging pots and other items would have roused the dead. She figured taking her wrath out on inanimate objects late at night, in a place where none were nearby was for the best.

"What did that skillet ever do to you?"

The blonde turned to find Eric standing just inside the door. She turned her attention back to the pan in her hand, attempting to hide her embarrassment at being caught. "I was just..." She fumbled for an excuse but then a sauce pan caught her eye. "Just looking for the right pot to make hot chocolate." She traded the skillet for the small pot.

"I never knew you were partial to cocoa, it's always been more to Snow's taste."

She shrugged uncomfortably, she'd have it occasionally, usually with Snow, but she didn't tend to make it for herself.

Eric caught her hand before she could reach for what was left of the day's milk, drawing her gaze to him. "How about I make us some tea instead?" His smile, not calling her out, was simply understanding and accepting.

She released the pot, nodding and giving him a somewhat sheepish smile. "That sounds great."

Eric replaced the sauce pan, then lifted the kettle and took it over to the pump to fill it.

Aurora took a seat at the table to watch him go through the soothing, simple process of making tea. She could never thank enough whatever power was responsible for bringing her group of friends into her life, but especially Eric. He was her brother, her rock. He was the one she'd always turned to when her world was tossed asunder, or simply when her parents' prodding about her betrothal got to her. Which, she was willing to admit, if only to herself, was part of the reason she had reacted so poorly to learning of his attachment to Ariel. It was selfish, she knew, wanting to keep him to herself, but she permitted herself that very human weakness.

"Do you think that Prince James will propose to Snow after the mourning?" Aurora propped her chin on her fist.

"That's the impression I got." He placed the kettle on the open burner, making sure the fire was stoked high enough.

She watched her finger sketch a horse on the counter. "And you and Ariel?"

Eric braced his hands on the edge of the counter, head falling forward and back seemingly slumping. "I don't know."

Aurora hated how defeated he sounded. As much as his relationship with the mermaid princess worried her, Aurora wanted her brother happy. She didn't know what to say, any reassurance she tried to give him could prove empty and false, and any other words she had would be disparaging. All she could do was just be there for him, whatever the outcome.

Eric cleared his throat and returned to spooning the tea leaves into the pot. "So, do you feel like talking about it?"

Aurora pursed her lips, disliking the turn in conversation, but fully expecting it.

He glanced over his shoulder, humor touching his features at the sour set of hers. "You know you'll feel better after you do."

She huffed out a breath, hating that he was right and knew her so well, but proceeded to tell him nonetheless. "Mother and Father received word before I left that Phillip plans to visit."

"Ah."

That's all anyone could really say. She'd always known she would have to at least meet and talk to him someday, though it didn't make facing the more immediate prospect of it any easier.

"Maybe you should ask James, Thomas and Liam about him? They might be able to allay some of your qualms." Eric poured the hot water over the leaves and placed the lid on top to allow the tea to steep.

Aurora gave a rare unladylike snort. "I like those three fairly well, so far. But they're his friends and certainly not impartial."

The dark-haired prince leaned back against the counter, shrugging, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Still, it certainly couldn't hurt to ask."

She made a doubtful sound, returning to her invisible sketching. "We received the news of Phillip's visit only a couple of hours before Red's letter about Henry." She slashed a stormy sky behind a rearing horse.

Eric silently poured them each a cup.

"And finally," she continued, sarcasm creeping into her tone, "there's Maleficent's _delightful_ presence."

He gave her an understanding half smile as he handed her a mug, which she accepted with murmured thanks. "I have to say," Eric commented, settling down opposite her, "for all of the bad blood between your family and her, you're both handling being in close quarters with remarkable grace."

Aurora made a face. "Well, I'm certainly not going to make a scene at a funeral, especially one for a family member of a friend. I'm guessing that Maleficent has at least a few compunctions herself–as hard as that is to believe–and is acting as such for the same reasons."

"I know that Snow appreciates it, and I'm sure Queen Regina does as well." He blew on the tea before taking a sip.

"Hmm." There was a doubtful note in her tone, which she voiced. "I can't guarantee that the peace will last, especially once Snow and the queen go into seclusion after the funeral tomorrow."

Her brother reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry, we'll try to help you to maintain the peace."

A grateful, though not completely convinced, smile lifted her face as she leaned over to press an affectionate kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Red and Liam lay wrapped in each other's arms, staring into the dark in thoughtful silence. They were still absorbing the memories that were just returned to them and all the emotions that came with them, and the complications they caused.

"What do you want me to call you?" Red asked, fingers tracing the planes of his chest. "Liam or Victor?"

He thought for a moment, stroking her arm. "Liam," he finally said decisively. "That's the name I chose for myself when I decided to stay here. It's who I am now."

She nodded, still watching her hand's movements.

"Do you regret remembering?" Liam asked after a few moments.

Her fingers stilled and she looked up at him with a confused frown. "Why would you think I might regret remembering us?"

He shrugged. "Along with remembering us you remember everything else. Including things you mentioned you'd like to forget."

"Liam." His name was a sigh, part exasperation and part affection, as she sat up to look at him properly, holding the sheet to her chest so that he wouldn't get to distracted. "When I said that, I didn't mean I'd take it back. I was more than willing to take the bad memories because then I also remembered my friendships with Snow, James and the dwarfs. For all that I got back in the deal it far outweighed the bad." She cupped the side of his face in her hand. "And I feel exactly the same this time around. I wouldn't give up these memories to forget the darker spots in them."

He grinned, fingers threading into her hair. "Neither would I."

Satisfied that he believed her, not that she doubted his ego would gladly accept it as true, Red allowed him to draw her back down to his chest. Though now she felt comfortable enough to voice her own insecurities. "Do you regret staying here and not returning to your brother?" She knew how important Gerhardt was to him; she had to know.

"He's alive and happy. That's all I ever wanted for him." Liam pressed his lips to get temple. "And I'm exactly where I want to be. Where I belong." His arms tightened around her. "With the woman I love."

For all his snark and leering, he could have moments of startling honesty and tenderness as both Liam and Whale.

After the initial rush of happiness from remembering each other had worn off and then they'd both–to borrow a phrase from that other world and for lack of a better way to put it–freaked the hell out. Her mind had whirled trying to remember: Had she killed Peter or not?! Had she slaughtered hunting parties from her village?

Liam's eyes had flown wide, and he'd momentarily shouted Gerhardt's name. He'd leapt to his feet, saying that he had to save his brother until Red had grabbed him, repeatedly reminding him of what he'd told her about his brother. Red placed his hand on her breastbone so that he could feel the calmer pattern of her breathing and try to match it. Minute by minute, his heaving breaths slowed to a regular rhythm.

From there lips had locked, hands held on and refused to let go; Red still wasn't sure how they made it to his room in the castle. Their coupling was desperate and quick, neither able to muster the patience to take their time. That would come with their second round, after they had time to catch their breaths and no longer needed the immediate reassurance that the other was actually there and not disappearing...or dead.

"The reason I gave you for deciding to train to be a general," Red nodded to Liam's half-statement, "that wasn't the entire reason."

Her head lifted, confused frown creasing her face. "What do you mean?"

Blue eyes cut to the side, but she saw the troubled look clouding them. "That day, the final battle..." Liam swallowed thickly. "Holding you as you died, my medical training useless to save you, and my feeble fighting skills completely inadequate to watch your back like I should've done..."

She sat up again, eyes wide. "No! That wasn't your fault! You can't think like that!"

He nodded but Red could tell that it was more of a placating gesture. "Well, I might not have consciously remembered why but I felt this driving need to learn those skills, to be able to protect others." His gaze went to his lover. "I love you, Red. In a way I never thought myself capable. Losing you again...I can't stand the thought."

"Well," she carefully began, while trying to infuse a little teasing into her voice, "we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen."

A smile crossed Liam's features, before kissing her lightly and holding her to him. If his embrace was a touch tighter Red didn't mention it.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

It was about an hour before dawn when James and Snow stirred. The barely-visible, dark cloud cover out the window foretold how little the sun rising would make a difference in the brightness outside. He kissed her lingeringly at her door, promising to meet her in the kitchen shortly.

Making his way through the halls, the few servants James met didn't comment or question his presence, simply bowing or curtsying and murmuring greetings before carrying on with their duties. Over the last couple of days, the prince had grown to fully appreciate the loyalty and discretion of Everland Castle's staff. He had the feeling that most of, if not _all _of them knew _exactly _what had been going on between himself and Snow, along with where they had each slept the last two nights. However from what he could tell they'd kept it entirely amongst themselves. In many palaces there would've been speculative glances thrown their way and not-so-discreet gossipy whispers behind hands. If the servants talked about them they at least had the good grace to do so out of sight and away from prying ears.

So James' journey to his door was uneventful.

And then the door of the room next to his opened.

His jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of a rather disheveled Red exiting his general's quarters, shoes in-hand, an obvious attempt at sneaking out. After easing the door shut as softly possible she turned.

Instantly she froze, the look on her face calling to mind an expression, "deer in the headlights," though where he'd heard such a phrase or what the hell "headlights" were, James wasn't sure. However he did rather enjoy the reversal of the situation, one eyebrow rising and a smirk curling his mouth.

After a few moments Red managed to recover enough to roll her eyes and hold her head high as she strode by James, muttering a good morning–which he returned–with as much dignity as she could muster. Though the vivid blush staining her face and neck undermined much of her efforts.

"Red!"

At the half-whisper, she froze, back going ramrod straight, while James turned with an even broader grin to see his general, shirtless. From his open doorway, Liam's mouth hung open, eyes wide, at seeing his liege.

"Uh…" the general's eyes darted back and forth between James and Red's back.

"I'll see you later, Liam," Red responded in a moderate tone, not turning around.

His eyes flicked to the prince who was now leaning back against his own closed door watching the embarrassed pair with ever-growing amusement. "Right…"

Red briskly continued down the hall.

The prince turned a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his general, who met his look with a rather fixed expression, for several moments seemingly unsure of what to do. Then his face creased into a half-sheepish half-self-satisfied grin and he shrugged before ducking back into his quarters.

James chuckled as he let himself into his room. Snow would find this development very interesting.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

Red mentally cursed her bad luck the entire walk home. She should've been more cautious leaving Liam's quarters, it somehow not even occurring to her that James might be returning to his room at that time, or that Snow might be leaving had she been in the prince's room, even though both were early-risers and would want be to in their respective rooms before sunrise. James would invariably share his intelligence with Snow, and Red and Liam would never hear the end of it after all the hell they'd given the royal couple. Right now, Red just hoped to avoid being caught by her grandmother and the likely..._discussion_ to follow.

She held her breath as she opened the kitchen door, cringing when it gave the softest of creaks, though in the silence of pre-dawn it sounded as loud as one of the firecrackers King Leopold had procured from the Eastern Kingdom for Snow's 20th birthday. She closed the door as softly as possible, wincing as the sound issued from the hinges again. As Red turned felt a round of déjà vu.

Granny sat at the table, watching her granddaughter with a raised eyebrow.

Talk about walks of shame from hell. First, she's caught leaving her lover's room by her _sister's_ lover, and now she's caught returning home by her _grandmother_. Oh, yeah, this was officially the worst morning after _ever_.

"Have a good night?" Granny inquired in an arch tone.

Red stood just inside the doorway staring at the woman who'd raised her, not once but twice. With Granny it'd always been a mixture of grandmother and mother, her own–in the other life–having not been there–whether that was by her choice or Granny's Red still wasn't really sure–and in this one her mother had been fatally injured while running out in the woods. Red had been a little girl and Granny had set her down beside her mother, she could still feel the texture of her mother's fur as she ran her fingers through it, saying goodbye, her mother weakly lifting her head to lick her arm…

Granny had always been there, the only parent Red had ever really had, in either lifetime.

Damn, this was awkward.

She twisted the fabric of her skirt between her fingers. "Good…"

Wry amusement lit the older woman's expression. "Indeed." She stood and headed toward the door to the main part of the inn. "Try not to let the guests see you head upstairs, Ruby."

Red's jaw hit the floor. "_What_?!"

Granny smirked. "Did you really think you were the only ones to remember?"

Her granddaughter took two staggering steps forward. "Who…How…? How many?"

Beatrix returned to the kitchen table, gesturing for Red to take a seat across from her. "That I know of so far? Myself, Henry," her head bowed in a moment of grief and respect, "and just recently Geppetto and Jiminy."

The young woman nearly collapsed into a chair. "We…we were wondering…if anyone else remembered."

"There aren't many." Granny poured a cup of coffee and pushed it across the table to Red. "When you think of how many were taken to that land the first lifetime it really is extremely rare."

Red turned the mug between her hands, a habit of Snow's that she'd picked up. "It's kind of like having three lives in your head…" She rubbed her forehead with one hand. "It's disorienting, especially so when we first remembered."

"It is indeed." Granny nodded, taking a sip from the cup she'd just poured herself.

"How long have you known?"

The innkeeper took a deep, thoughtful breath. "Since…since your mother died."

Her granddaughter's eyes went wide. "So long? How have you born it?"

Granny shrugged. "It wasn't bad, the memories helped me so that I didn't make many of the same mistakes this time around. And after Henry came I wasn't alone in remembering, even though he wasn't in Storybrooke with us."

Red pressed a fist to her lips. Finally she asked the question that'd been insidiously nagging at her, and that she knew was also in Liam's mind though he didn't voice it. "Is this real? I mean…these…memories…they're not fake like the ones from the curse?"

Understanding lit Beatrix's face. "So far as I can tell, this is all real. I don't know how or why everything was reset, or why so much is different, but…for all intents and purposes… With the breaking of the curse, we've been given a second chance."

Tears pooling in Red's eyes, fingertips against her mouth. "So…I _really_ didn't kill Peter… I haven't killed anyone in my wolf-form, this time?"

"Never," she confirmed.

Red closed her eyes for a moment; tears trickled down her cheeks at the motion. "Thank you." she breathed. "_Thank you_!"

Her grandmother reached across the table to cover her hand. "I didn't want you to have to bear that burden. Aside from the fact that somehow this time around the kingdom is more accepting of our kind, I told you so that you wouldn't be so unprepared." She gave a sigh, head hanging. "Though it was still a shock nonetheless."

Red flipped her hand over to return Granny's grasp, squeezing her hand. "You and Snow have helped me more than I can ever say. And now I have Liam again…" She smiled at her parent. "Thank you."

Granny met her gaze, a small smile lifting her mouth, and squeezing her hand back before releasing it and clearing her throat as she stood, her more brisk, gruff exterior reasserting itself. "You'll want to bathe and get changed before we have to head to the castle."

The young woman gave a soft laugh as she stood. "Yes, Granny."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

James had waited until after he and Snow had eaten breakfast and gone to the privacy of her study before telling her of his little discovery. He'd share what he saw with is beloved, and each have a time giving their respective friends hell over it, but neither was about to expose their friends as fodder for gossip.

Snow choked on laughter over his description of Red and Liam's expressions and reactions. "At least we didn't walk in on them, they should be thankful for that. I know _I_ am." She cast him another grin before turning her attention to a drawer she was digging through, looking for several contracts, agreements and correspondences she needed to send before the funeral that afternoon.

He chuckled. "I agree wholeheartedly." He sat back, smirking in the chair across her desk.

Attention still on sifting through the contents of a drawer, Snow opened her mouth to respond, but then frowned.

Instantly James leaned forward, concerned. "What's wrong?"

She drew out a thick, sealed letter, her fingertips tracing over the simple seal. "I'd forgotten about this."

Her prince stood and moved to her side, arm going around her shoulders while he looked down at the wax seal on the paper. He didn't recognize it, a simple "H" with a silhouette of a horse. "Who is it from?"

It was a beat before she answered. "Henry."

Blue eyes snapped to her face, trying to read her expression, which was almost guilty.

Snow turned the envelope over to reveal the name written in simple, unembellished, but neat hand, _Regina_. "He asked me to give this to Stepmother after he passed… I'd almost entirely forgotten." Her emerald gaze turned to his, worry and guilt coloring her expression, telling of her fears that Regina might be angry that Snow didn't give her the letter sooner or that she might take the contents out on her if they weren't good.

James ran his fingers through loose curls falling down her back soothingly. How he wished he could take this burden from her, but it would only cause more friction in the long run. "Why don't you take that to her and," he lifted the pile of papers from her desk, "I'll take these to the messengers to be sent off?" He cradled her jaw in his palm, thumb gently stroking her earlobe. "Your stepmother will understand."

A sweet smile curved her lips; she cupped his cheek and leaned forward to kiss him. "Thank you, Charming." Wariness still tinged her expression but she seemed at least a little soothed by his words.

With another quick kiss, James took her hand and helped her to her feet, leading her out of the study until they reached the stairs, where he kissed her hand lingeringly. Snow squeezed his fingers and smiled at him, nodding firmly before turning and heading up the steps.

The prince watched his princess ascend the stairs until she turned at the landing and was out of sight.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow stared at the door to Regina's quarters, nervously fingering the letter in her hands. For all of the stress and the pain since her father fell ill, things between her and her stepmother had been better than they'd ever been. They always managed to pull together when her father fell ill and the situation demanded it, but this last illness and Henry's passing… Her teeth gnawed on her lower lip in thought. She was loath to upset the peace that'd settled between them and this letter… She gazed back down at it. What if Regina was angry at her for not remembering it sooner? Or what if it was too soon?

The princess took a deep fortifying breath, deciding there was nothing to be done for it. She raised her fist and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Even though her stepmother's voice was muffled through the door, Snow could still hear the quaver in the woman's voice. She cringed, this _really_ wasn't the best timing if Regina had been crying.

It took her a moment to force her voice to work. "It's me, Stepmother… If now isn't a good time I can come back later."

There were several long heartbeats of silence before Regina called, "Come in, Snow."

With another deep breath, Snow pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Regina stood in the middle of the room, head held high, the consummate queen–something they had in common, if Snow felt inclined to admit it, was that they both retreated behind the "royalty" mask when they felt vulnerable. "Close the door, please."

The young princess latched it behind her; she clasped the envelope between her hands in front of her, thumb rubbing circles over the wax seal.

"Yes, Snow?" There was an uncharacteristic patience in the queen's voice as she addressed her stepdaughter.

After a beat of further worrying, Snow stepped forward and held the letter out to Regina. "Henry gave this to me to give to you."

Regina's hand, which had been reaching for the proffered item, almost recoiled, but then finished the gesture. Long fingers closed over the envelope, caressing the seal.

Snow wrung her hands in front of her. "He asked that I give that to you upon his passing. With everything that's happened I'd forgotten until I found it in my desk this morning."

Regina's unfathomable dark eyes lifted to meet her stepdaughter's nervous green ones. "Thank you."

There was a stretch of silence, Snow took this to be her stepmother's dismissal; she turned and headed toward the door.

"Snow."

The princess turned back to the elder woman.

Regina turned the envelope unconsciously between her hands. "Your…your offer to sing the Lullaby…"

Snow's fingers tightened around each other. Two days ago, she'd offered to sing the traditional song in case her stepmother had felt too emotional to do so, though she'd wondered how she'd get the words past her own lips. At the time, Regina had said she'd think about it. "Yes, Stepmother?"

She drew a visible breath. "Thank you, for the offer. But…I'll sing it."

The princess' hands loosened slightly. "Yes, Stepmother."

"Though…" The queen cleared her throat. "Perhaps you could be ready to…step in if…if my voice gets tired."

This was a level of weakness that the queen had never before allowed Snow to see, it made her feel both unnerved and honored that Regina would let her in this much. She curtseyed. "Of course, Stepmother."

Regina nodded her head and then gestured that Snow was free to leave.

With the door closed firmly behind her, Snow finally let out a long breath, thankful for the moment to be over and that, not only had it not ended badly, but it'd actually gone…well, by their standards.

Maybe, she mused as she made her way down the stairs, there was hope for more of a relationship between her and Regina after all.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was lunch time when Red and Granny arrived at the castle, the funeral attendees who lived close enough to return that day had arrived and the whole castle was abustle with activity. The normally calm and serene atmosphere almost an uproar at the influx of guests and the staff trying to keep up with the unaccustomed demands. Red knew that the staff, while they enjoyed the occasional challenge of such a large party, would be longing for things to return to normal and peace to resume. And for the chance to properly mourn for their friend and lord without the disruptive presence of the court.

Red and Granny, having already eaten their lunch, went directly to the kitchens to lend a hand. There was hardly any room to move in the large room, but still the help was dearly needed.

Snow had apparently escaped the large lunch as soon as she politely could as she stepped into the kitchen only an hour after the meal would've been served. The strain of having to deal with the both the well-meaning visitors, and manipulative nobles – attempting to use this time to try to curry favor – lined her face. James followed closely behind her, obviously doing his best to do what he could to protect her from anything and everything he could.

When the princess' eyes alighted on Red, however, the shadows in her expression immediately lightened, amusement gleaming in the green irises.

The younger woman watched her best friend's approach warily, and rightfully so.

"So," Snow smirked, "how did you sleep last night?"

_Shit._ Red made a mental note to watch what she said more carefully, the slang and cursing of her Storybrooke identity were bleeding through in her thoughts. Her eyes cut to James, taking in the rather self-satisfied smirk on _his_ face, she pursed her lips. "Fine."

Green eyes sparkled back at her impishly. "Indeed."

Red grimaced. Her sister would say no more on the subject at the moment, but she wasn't safe from the hell she would receive once they were alone.

Tossing one last smirk at her best friend, Snow glanced around the mayhem that passed for the kitchen. "Can we be of any help?"

The younger woman scanned the room. "I don't know that we actually have any _space_ for more people." She returned her gaze to the couple. "I think we're all right for now, you had best prepare for the funeral ceremony." Compassion lit her face as she watched renewed grief enter Snow's expression, James' hand instinctively pressing against her back. Red reached out and gripped her sister's hand.

Snow managed a grateful smile for her best friend, squeezing her hand in return before letting her prince lead her out of the busy room.

Red couldn't help watching them with a smile, things may have changed this time around, but some things hadn't. And Snow and Charming's love was one of them.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Princess."

The couple hadn't gone ten steps when Granny's voice rang out behind them. James felt Snow's back go rigid under his hand. When she told him about what happened when Henry died, his beloved had also confided feeling resentment toward both Henry and Granny, that because he was with her that night Snow had been forced to move his body. It tore at the princess who could hardly bring it upon herself to hate her worst enemy. For all her fire and sass, Snow's gentle soul needed time to recover from the ordeal. He slid the palm that'd been resting against the small of her back around her waist, needing to comfort and shield her. Snow discreetly reached for his hand on her hip and squeezed it, releasing it just as covertly before they turned to face the woman who'd been the only grandmother Snow had ever known.

Drawing on the love that she had for the woman, the princess managed a smile. "Yes, Granny?"

Sharp eyes studied the couple from behind glinting spectacles, whatever she saw had her compressing her lips and then nodding. Granny reached into the pocket of her apron, withdrawing a sealed envelope. "Henry… Henry asked me to pass this on to you after he died."

Snow haltingly accepted the letter, thumb caressing the familiar seal. "Thank you," she said quietly.

The widow clasped her hands before her. "He said that I should recommend that you two read it together."

Prince and princess glanced at each other before turning back to Granny and nodding.

"Best you both get ready for the funeral," Beatrix suggested as she made to return to the kitchen.

"Granny!" Snow suddenly burst out.

The older woman turned just in time to catch her surrogate granddaughter in a hug.

"I love you, Granny," the princess murmured into her shoulder.

"I love you too, my girl." Granny closed her eyes, as grateful as ever that she'd been given the chance to be family to this remarkable young woman again. She pulled away to meet Snow's green gaze, understanding all too well the conflict that the princess was feeling. "And when you're ready, I'm here."

A grateful smile lifted the grieving princess' lips. "I know."

With one last squeeze to her granddaughter's hands, Granny returned to the kitchen.

Snow waited a few heartbeats after the older woman had disappeared behind the door before turning and wrapping her hand around James' proffered elbow, allowing him to lead her up the stairs.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

It was an hour before the funeral when James arrived at the bottom of the stairs, meeting Aurora who'd just exited a sitting room. "Princess Aurora." He bowed.

The blonde curtseyed. "Prince James."

He clasped his hands behind his back. "I'm actually glad that I ran into you."

She arched an eyebrow, smirking. "Really?"

The prince rolled his eyes. "I'm not familiar with the funeral practices here. Do you know them?"

Aurora visibly reined in her humor, composing herself in an appropriately serious manner. "Not much is required of us as visitors, the family and the priest lead most of the ceremony. After the actual service, before we exit we're permitted to give our condolences to the family. After the condolences the family will exit through a private back door and go straight into seclusion." She loosely clasped her hands before her. "The rest of us guests are to leave tomorrow of course."

"Not to see them until the end of the mourning period." He gazed up the stairs, mind going to his beloved.

The blond princess gazed at him watchfully for a moment. "At the end of their seclusion, there is a service to formally end the mourning period, followed by a gathering to celebrate Henry's life."

James turned to her, eyebrows raised at her voluntarily sharing this unsolicited information.

She shrugged with studied carelessness. "Snow has been so preoccupied with everything else on her plate that I thought that she might have forgotten to tell you about it. It's the first chance you'll have to see her and I know that Snow will want you there."

He stared at her thoughtfully for a few moments before nodding. "Thank you."

Aurora cocked an eyebrow. "This advice isn't exactly given for free."

The prince braced himself. "What do you want?"

She shifted uncomfortably, staring at her fidgeting fingers. "Just before I left home, we received word that Prince Phillip is coming for a visit." She looked back up at him. "I was hoping you could tell me a little about him as he is now… Preferably as objective an opinion as possible?"

Surprise lit his face, though understanding quickly overtook his expression. "I don't want to influence your opinion, you should have the chance to form it from meeting him again yourself."

An uncharacteristically unladylike snort escaped her. "You can't influence me toward him any worse than I already feel about the situation."

James tapped a thoughtful finger against one of the intricate, silver knot studs on his belt. "Aurora…" He let out a breath. "Aurora, the best thing for me to say is that…we all have our…tragedies." Her eyebrows shot up. "And they and the way we deal with them form us in many different ways. Try to remember this when you meet him. That maybe…maybe what you see on the surface…isn't what's really there."

She gave him a droll look. "Now you're talking in riddles."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "There are certain things that aren't mine to tell."

Aurora pursed her lips. "I don't suppose your brother or your general will give me a straighter answer?"

James let out a chuckle. "Thomas will keep his confidences. Liam…Liam might just try to play with you more."

The princess rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought." She sighed. "Well, I suppose thank you for what little you told me…which wasn't overly helpful."

His mouth was set in a grim line again. "I'm sorry. I just…" He glanced away, staring toward the door thoughtfully, before seeming to make a decision and turning back. "My father was talking of sending me to discuss alterations to our trade agreements. I was planning on stopping through Glenbriar on my way home. If you're still frustrated by him and not understanding why he is the way he is after his visit…" she could see the muscles in his jaw working for a moment, "ask me when I arrive."

Her blue eyes narrowed. "Something really happened to him?"

James rubbed a finger over the scar on his chin. "It's his private business. And I shouldn't be the one to tell."

Aurora's eyes narrowed even more, deeply wanting to question him further but knowing that he wouldn't say anything more. She nodded, forcing herself to be satisfied with what he told her…for now.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Everyone had gathered in the chapel just before sunset, filling all of the rows of benches, with Snow and Regina alone in the front row. Henry's coffin, lid closed, sat at the front of the room, rose petals scattered across the marble surface.

The priest performed the service, speaking of Henry's life and virtues, his love for his family and how he would be missed. He intoned the ceremonial words bidding Henry into the afterlife. Afterward, Snow and Regina were called to stand in front of the coffin. Red and a handful of other townspeople moved off to the side a few feet away from the royal family and picked up instruments.

James recognized the song as the music began and Regina's voice flowed out, a touch horse from the strain of suppressed tears. It was the first song Snow sang while they were in Lochdubh, the one that sounded an odd cross between a lullaby and a lament. He wondered its significance that it was included in the service. Halfway through the second verse the queen's voice cracked; Snow smoothly slipped in, finishing the verse and letting her voice fade again through the refrain as Regina's voice regained strength. With the last strains from Red's guitar slowly fading Regina stepped forward, laying a white rose on top of the coffin, Snow following suit with a few _Lacrimae Lunaris_ blossoms, both lingering before, side-by-side, moving off to the side, so that the attendees of the funeral could say their good byes and then offer condolences before moving to the back and leaving the chapel. Both women stood tall, every inch radiating all of the regality they possessed, faces composed and receiving each person's words graciously.

James, in his turn, held to a tradition of his people, placing a sliver of _Verum Aquilonem_ amongst the flowers and petals on the lid. Thomas and Liam did the same. They received odd looks from some of the mourners, but no one commented. Most laid _Lacrimae Lunaris_–one of the few flowers still in bloom this late in the year–upon the coffin, some placed others, different colors of roses–mostly by nobles who had hot houses–and other flowers.

The prince then moved to the queen, expressing his condolences to her, which she received with a tiny smile and a nod in Snow's direction. The gesture spoke volumes, not only that he could move on, but that she knew why he was _really_ there…and she approved.

He was shocked, but grateful; James bowed low to her, hoping that he fully conveyed the gratitude and respect that he felt.

Then he stood before Snow, a smile, albeit a grief-tinged one, but still recognizable as the one she reserved for him gracing her features. He took her fingers in his. "How are you handling it?" he questioned quietly enough that only she could hear.

Her eyes flickered to the remaining crowd of mourners, she returned her gaze to him with a brave smile. "I'll make it."

James wasn't entirely convinced, but he nodded, and kissed the back of her hand. "I love you."

Her eyes softened, alight with love and appreciation. "I love you too."

It was the hardest thing on Earth but he managed to release her hand and follow the path of the mourners ahead of him.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Eventually the chapel emptied, leaving only Snow and her stepmother. The princess turned her attention back to the coffin, she stepped back up to it and laid her palm on the lid; she could feel Regina's eyes on her. "Good bye, Grandfather," she whispered, tears lacing her voice. She pressed a kiss to her fingers and then touched them to the lid. Finally she turned and allowed Regina to lead her out the back door of the chapel.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Dinner was actually a louder affair than the night before. A few seats down from himself, James could hear a couple of nobles speaking in tones not quite as low as they intended about proposals they were planning on trying to get passed as soon as the mourning period was over, hopefully slipping them by with Snow's grief still fresh. A few others were talking about trying to "comfort" the princess or queen.

James ground his teeth together; he needed to get out of there before he committed murder. He could see how annoyed the rest of Snow's inner circle was growing with the talk around them as well. Apparently they were all on the same wavelength, because they all rose at the same time, ready to escape the room.

Maleficent watched the group, or more specifically Aurora, with an almost malicious glee in her eyes. "I heard that your _dear_ betrothed was coming for a visit," she purred at the blond princess.

James, who was right behind Aurora, saw her back go ramrod straight.

"Arranged marriages," the older blond woman smirked, "a tricky business. Never know when the man might just lose interest and forget all about you in favor of some trollop."

Turning to face the woman who hated her family, the princess' hands were balled so tight the knuckles were bleached white.

Maleficent didn't back down from the fury in Aurora's gaze, if anything she seemed to be bolstered by it. "I mean, it's not like he hasn't before… And you're so…" she eyed the princess, "forgettable."

Red and James' restraining hands on either of her arms were the only things keeping Aurora from throwing herself at the woman.

"Ignore her," Red hissed into her ear, trying to pull her friend away.

Eric joined in their efforts to get the heiress to Glenbriar out of the dining room, murmuring encouragement along with Red.

Aurora wrenched herself from their grip the moment they were in the hall. "Witch," she snarled under her breath.

They all glanced at each other, Belle standing back, seemingly unsure of how to handle the seething princess. Thomas and Liam also maintained their distance, the youngest prince more out of keeping an eye on things, Liam because he found at least some humor in the situation. Gaspard stood close to the princess similarly trying to calm her through words as well, his injuries making him unequal to physically restraining her. While Ella's sharp, wary eyes stayed on the door, ready to let them know if anyone–specifically Maleficent–came through the doors from the dining room.

"You know she just wants to get a rise out of you," the young king reminded her.

"Well she succeeded," Aurora seethed in return. "Always insulting my parents and me…"

Eric glanced at the rest of them, and then turned his attention solely onto his sister. "I could use a round or two on the training grounds before it gets too late."

The blond princess turned to him, and after a moment a wry smile lifted her mouth, knowing _exactly_ what he was doing, and loving her brother all the more for it. "I could use a go with the swords." She let him lead her off in the direction of the training grounds.

The rest of the group watched them go, and once they were out of sight released a collective breath.

"I believe I'm going to retire," Gaspard stated mildly.

There were murmurs of assent from the rest as they either headed toward the stairs or, in the case or Ella and Red, toward the kitchens to check in with Granny and leave through the door there. Though James was fairly certain he caught looks exchanged between Red and Liam, and he had a good guess what they meant, he decided to say nothing of them though, more interested in going to his own room.

He wasn't surprised when he opened the door to find Snow sitting on the bed, legs curled under her and back against the headboard, staring into flickering fireplace.

Her gaze turned to James and a welcoming smile curved her mouth. "Hi."

"Hi," he softly returned, undoing the ties on his dark, leather doublet and tossing it over the back of a chair before settling on the side of the bed to remove his boots.

Snow continued to watch him, soothed by the simple intimacy of the moment.

His boots discarded on the floor, James swung his legs up onto the bed, shifting to sit beside his love and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Snow leaned into his embrace, cheek pressed to his chest.

James dropped a kiss onto the crown of her head. "How are you really doing?"

A deep sigh escaped her. "It was…hard." She snuggled deeper into his side, swallowing thickly. "In some ways harder than I expected and in others…strangely easier."

"Dealing with the people being the harder?"

She tilted her chin back, to look him in the eyes. "Was that how it was for you too, with David?"

The lingering sadness that always entered his eyes at the mention of his twin flashed through them. "Yeah."

She sighed, pressing her ear to his heart. "I know that most of them mean well but…"

"If anything they sometimes make it worse?"

Snow nodded. "I actually wanted to scream at them to stop, to go away, quite a few times."

James laid his cheek atop of her head. "That's usually the worst of it when it comes to dealing with others." His fingers carded through her curls.

His princess breathed a deep, relieved breath. "I'm actually looking forward to the peace and solitude."

A worried frown crossed his face. "I heard some of the nobles talking."

A snort escaped her. "I can imagine some of the content."

"They're hoping to take advantage of yours and the queen's grief–I'm not really worried about their hopes to seduce the both of you–but they're hoping that right after the mourning period they'll be able to slip proposals and laws past you."

"Hmm…" she acknowledged. "I'd already considered that." She looked up, giving him a wry smile. "They tried the same when my mother died, my father told me about it." She pressed a kiss over his heart. "Don't worry, we're prepared."

"Good." Her prince stroked his palm up and down her back. "That song that the queen sang?"

"Mmm hmm?"

"You sang it while we were in Lochdubh…what is it?"

Her fingers traced idle patterns over his chest. "It's the Everland Lullaby. It's sung to every child the first time when they're presented and then throughout their early childhood. When they get older they're taught it, and then they sing it to their children. Upon our deaths the nearest family will sing the Lullaby for the final time to our bones."

James frowned, disturbed by this. "That sounds rather…morbid."

Snow looked thoughtfully into the flames. "I suppose it could be seen as such. I actually find it comforting, it being a symbol of our lives coming full circle to their end in this world."

"How did the tradition start?"

"Legends say that a soldier in a war long, long ago wrote the song while on the battle field for his children, and would sing it to them before bed each night when he was home. It is said that when his wife gave birth again the soldier sang it over the cradle of his newborn shortly after it was born. Upon his death this family sang it to him. From there, it is said, the song spread and the tradition began."

His brow was still furrowed. "I don't know how I feel about this…tradition." He looked down at her, expression troubled. "About carrying it on with our children…"

Snow bit her lip, fingers smoothing the wrinkles in his brow. "I would like to continue it. But, it is something we have time to discuss."

"Hmm," he agreed, deciding to let it go for now. He finally noticed that she was holding something in her lap. "Is that Henry's letter?"

Her own gaze moved to the item, nodding. "Yes." She turned it over in her hands. "Even if Granny hadn't said we should read it together…" Snow lifted her emerald orbs to his, "I would've still wanted you to be her with me when I read it."

James wondered how it was possible for this woman to repeatedly steal his heart when he never even took it back. He kissed her lovingly before resting his forehead against hers. "Are you ready?"

Snow took a deep breath and then nodded, both of their gazes going to the envelope as she broke the seal and unfolded the missive.

_Dearest Snow,_

_If you are reading this, then I've passed on, and likely it is because of my heart. As you probably now know, Doc heard the irregularity some months ago. He told me that if I took more precautions I would have a better chance of living longer, but the precautions he wanted me to take…honestly I couldn't live that way, it wasn't truly living. I never told you and Regina because I knew you'd both try to get me to follow Doc's advice. I'm getting old, Snow, I've lived a long life, and I've had what few have ever known: true love. I have had two wives, the second being the love of my life. A beautiful, wonderful daughter, who is so strong. And the most remarkable woman to call my granddaughter._

Snow's voice broke at this point and she couldn't continue, so she handed it to Charming while she allowed the tears to overtake her.

_What I have learned in these many years of living is that you should live your life to the very fullest extent possible, no matter how old you are. And I haven't regretted a moment of it. I have met the man who will be your husband and I'm glad to have been able to see this day, though I _do_ regret missing your wedding._

James had to clear his throat before he could continue.

_I wish you both the greatest happiness imaginable. After everything you deserve it. Someday…well, much of what I have to say now will seem nonsensical to you, but someday it might make sense. I sometimes wonder if I hope for that day or not for both good and bad can come of it. But if that day does come…I hope that you'll be able to find it in your hearts to forgive an old fool for making mistakes and loving too deeply, too blindly._

They exchanged confused glances, what on Earth could he mean?

_I have loved you, Snow, as the grandchild I never had. I still pray that someday my daughter might have children of her own, but I want you to know that I couldn't have loved you more had you been of my own blood. I'm proud of you, my dear. You'll make an amazing queen someday, and you and your Charming will reign well together and love each other for many years to come._

_Most of my belongings, including my estates, I have left to Regina, with a few things quietly bequeathed to Beatrix, she likely already has them. To you and James I give you the deed to the house in Lochdubh (enclosed), which I had purchased as a wedding gift for you and your husband, my dear Snow. May you and your children fill that house with laughter, love and wonderful memories._

_Love and live, my children._

_Love,_

_Henry_

James managed to blindly set the letter on the bedside table, he and Snow holding each other tightly as they mutually mourned the kind and loving man.

Later, as they made love, it was slow and lingering, giving and receiving comfort from each other and trying to make it last, as they were acutely aware that with the dawn they wouldn't be able to see each other until Snow found the chance to sneak off to that cabin.

When he escorted her to her room, Snow paused at the door and removed the chain with his ring from around her neck and carefully placed it into his palm.

He frowned at her in pained confusion. "You're giving it back to me?"

Still holding his open hand in hers, she smiled up at him. "I don't need it as a visible promise anymore; I _know_ that you'll return." Snow closed his fingers over it. "And I want _you_ to have this so that it is readily available for you to put it on my finger when you do." With a suddenly impish grin, she rose on her toes, lips meeting his, arms locked around his shoulders.

James meanwhile had the hand clutching the necklace wrapped around her waist, and the other cradled her jaw, thumb stroking the lobe of her ear, while the kiss deepened.

It was several long moments before they were able to pull apart, panting.

Snow bit her lip, fingertips tracing the scar on his chin. "Take care of the chain? It belonged to my mother."

His eyebrows shot up. She was trusting him with something that'd belonged to her mother, and he was fully aware of how precious she held those few items that she had.

His fist tightened around the jewelry. "I will," he promised.

She pressed another kiss to his mouth; his arms reluctantly released her when she pulled away. "Can you send word when you're able to go to the cabin?"

He nodded. "Eric's family keeps messenger pigeons."

Her fingers threaded through the short hair at the back of his neck. "I'll be waiting."

James' kiss was soft, lingering. "Gods, this has gotten beyond old," he groaned, arm tightening around her waist. "I'm sick of this meeting and then separating, having to plot secret meetings…"

Snow's lips clung to his. "Just over a month." Her palms caressed his cheeks. "Then we can get engaged, and at least the clandestine meetings and pretending we aren't in love in public can end."

He sighed, kissing her one last time, drawing the moment out before they finally drew apart, hands staying joined and then simply fingertips until Snow had closed the door.

Later, when he checked his trunk before leaving, James would discover two of his shirts replaced with a bundle with a note atop it:

_My Beloved Charming,_

_I've absconded with some of your shirts so that I might have something of yours that smells like you. I have replaced them with my favorite shawl, soap and satchel._

_All my love,_

_Your Bandit Snow_

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

So! Surprises all around! XD I've always known that Granny and Henry remembered, and after Geppetto, Pinocchio and Jiminy's reunion those two decided to remember as well! XD Red and Liam…I wasn't sure if they were going to remember before or after Snowing, but regardless I figured it was a ways off…apparently I've been overruled! XD I was struggling with how to begin the chapter and then suddenly there was Red and Liam…WITH THEIR MEMORIES! Yes, Liam has ALWAYS been Whale/Frankenstein, though after we found out he _was_ Frankenstein I had no idea how to incorporate that… XD And then Liam basically took over and said, "This is how I got here…" Anywho, not sure if the backstory is any good, hell, I'm not sure if the CHAPTER is any good, though Sassy says she loves it… Shit… DARTIE! *runs off wailing for help defeating harpy-critic* Thank you for reading and PLEASE let me know what you think! :-D


	22. Chapter 19: Winds of Change

As always, thank you everyone for reading and those who commented! Part of the reason this chapter took a while is that I had some decisions to make story-wise and logistics to work out. :-D I hope that you guys like the chapter!

Dartie, as always you royally rock! XD Thank you for sitting through the long discussions, inner/outer debates, letting me bounce ideas off of you and making this chapter (every chapter really) possible. ;-D

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

**Chapter 19: Winds of Change**

_Everland_

By mid-afternoon the day after the funeral, the guests had cleared out of the castle but the royal family had naturally not been there to see them off because of the seclusion. Belle and Liam had moved to Granny and Red's inn with the intention to head back to Riverdon the next day. James and Thomas left that morning for Seaside to stay with Eric for a week or so. The plan was that once Hama arrived in Riverdon and Liam felt Belle was safe, the general would join his princes in Seaside and ride with them on their return trip–James' protests that they'd be safe enough had fallen on deaf ears since Liam didn't compromise on his liege's safety; bend a little, yes, but completely break all of the "rules," no.

Liam was glad to have another day in Everland, particularly in Everbrooke, but more specifically the inn Red called home. He'd just found the woman he loved again and wasn't eager to have to leave her again. Lying in Red's bed, hand stroking up and down her bare back, the man who, in another life, was called Frankenstein viewed their impending separation with a grim set to his features. It'd been a relief to learn that others remembered, specifically Granny; it appeared, with the memories, she was quite happy to let them pick up their relationship unhindered. She seemed to be feeling particularly lenient with him having to leave so soon.

"I guess we really know how Snow and James feel now," Red murmured, tracing patterns over his bare chest. "Always being pulled apart…"

"Hmm," he grumbled, arms tightening around her. "It sucks."

Red snorted with laughter at the very Storybrooke turn of phrase. "Yeah, it does." She rested her chin on his chest, studying his expression. "It truly bothers you. James traveling without you."

He was silent for several moments, eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling. "In this life, I've never liked him traveling without me to protect him. But these...memories..." His embrace tightened further. "Save for regaining my memories of you from that time...I rather wish I didn't remember."

Red forced him to loosen his hold enough so that she could prop her head on a hand and look at him properly, brow lightly furrowed in curiosity and concern. "Why?"

A sigh escaped him. "Because...things...my emotions weren't so...confusing before."

She just continued to watch him, waiting until he'd arranged what he wanted to say.

How had he gotten so lucky as to find what others searched for fruitlessly all their lives not once but twice, he wondered. His true love, someone who knew him better than he even knew himself?

"Before my loyalty to James was so...uncomplicated. Complete." He rubbed his forehead. "Now...with Whale's memories..." The doctor-turned-general gave Red an amused look. "Did you know he punched me back there? After Emma broke the curse. For that one-night-stand with Mary Margaret during the curse."

His lover smirked, pushing aside the twinge of jealousy at the reminder that the man she loved once slept with her best friend, even if it was only a one-night-stand and only because they were cursed. "Granny told me about it. She saw it happen out the window." Mirth sparkled in her eyes. "She found it rather amusing."

He massaged the remembered pain in his jaw, chuckling. "Yeah. He's not one to be trifled with in any life when it comes to Snow." Liam sobered again. "Part of me has this driving, almost unquestioning loyalty to him... The other protests that he isn't my prince and I certainly owe him no loyalty." He clenched his jaw. "I _hate_ that voice."

Red stared across the room, fingers idly tracing his collarbones, measuring her words carefully. "There are...insecurities and..._horrible_ memories from my original life in the Enchanted Forest that...I could do without."

His arms tightened as if he could protect her from the pain of a long-lost past with his embrace alone.

"But we have those memories. And we'll have to integrate those aspects into our identities. Also, as Granny has done, we should try to use them to our advantage." She lifted her head again to look him in the eye. "Learn from our mistakes." A smile curved her lips. "It's like James said back in Storybrooke, after we got our memories back, 'we are both.' And we're richer beings for it."

Liam's nod was slow but thoughtful. "Perhaps...perhaps I should use this time away from James to straighten myself out."

With a proud smile Red patted the spot right over his heart and then pressed a kiss to it. "That is all any of us can do, or expect."

They settled back down, waiting for sleep to take them.

"Though if he remembers and punches me again I'm going to slug him right back."

Red snorted with laughter.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Charming was packing. Packing for a wedding he didn't want, for a honeymoon with a woman he all but detested, and a life that he'd do just about _anything_ to escape. He could easily admit, though, that if the bride were someone else, a woman with long dark curls–not blond–and impish green eyes–not cold blue–he'd be _more_ than happy to walk down the aisle. Gods, if only Snow would come! He was to be married _tomorrow_! His hands fisted around a shirt and then shoved it into the bag. So little time! What if she hadn't received the letter? …What if she didn't feel for him as he did for her?! What if he'd mistaken the look in her eyes as she'd gazed at him over her fingertips with his mother's ring on her hand that day in the woods? What if–_

_The door clanking shut jerked Charming out of his thoughts._

_There she was. As if conjured by his very thoughts. Snow White._

_His heart pounded, he could hardly breathe; his eyes fixed on her, unable to yet believe that she was in fact standing before him._

_Slowly, deliberately, she took a few steps forward. "James," she greeted him quietly._

"_Snow," he finally managed to gasp._

_She stopped midway across the room. "I got your letter."_

"_You came." Wonder filled his voice, finally he believed she was there, that she'd come for him. "You came!" he cried, rushing to her and sweeping her up in his arms, repeating it over and over again._

_Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on as he spun her around, and he felt her face momentarily press into his neck._

_A relieved laugh escaped him as he repeated the words one last time as he set her feet back on the floor and pulled back. Charming had half-consciously placed himself between her and the door, wanting to make sure that if anyone came in they'd have to go through him to get to her. Finally he could see her face, eyes absorbing each beloved feature, reminding himself of what had escaped his memory._

_He bent his head, gently drawing her to him, intent on _finally_ kissing the woman he loved. Snow leaned in to him, but then abruptly her hands pressed to his chest instead._

"_Wait, James." There was an almost desperate quality to her voice._

_He gazed at her questioningly._

"_Us…" she took a deep breath, "it can't happen."_

_Now Charming was truly confused. "What's wrong? Of course it can!" His thumbs caressed Snow's upper arms. "You're here. We can go. We can be together. We can leave all this." His hands gripped hers, desperate to hold onto her. "I know there are costs, but I've planned for everything. They can't hurt us." Her green eyes just kept staring into his. "And now that I know that you love me too–"_

"_I don't," she cut in flatly._

_His heart stopped beating in his chest. "What?"_

_Her gaze remained level. "Love you."_

_The pain sliced through him, sharper than a thousand knives._

"_I don't." She shook her head. "I'm sorry." Snow took a deep breath again, glancing down for a moment. "You said I would always be in your heart," she looked back up, head shaking, "and that is too cruel a fate. Go _live_ your life!" she implored him. "Live it without me because there is _no_ place for us together."_

_Her tone was firm, final, his death sentence. Tears streamed down his face._

"_And fill your heart with love for someone else." Snow nodded in emphasis. "Someone who can love you the way I _never_ have. The way I never _will_."_

_Did he have a heart left in his chest?_

_She looked down; his gaze followed hers to see the letter he sent her held out to him. She didn't even want to keep this, this outpouring of his feelings…_

_Charming…no, _James_–if she didn't love him then what meaning did that name have anymore?–forced his hand to take the proffered item, crumbling it into his palm._

_Their eyes lifted to meet one last time, holding for what seemed an interminable moment, but was only the span of the last beat of his broken heart, before she moved around him._

_His hands clenched at his sides, part of him screaming, demanding that he grab her and hold on and never let her go. But he couldn't. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe–didn't _want_ to continue breathing. And he _couldn't_ watch Snow walk away, his shredded heart in her hands._

James shot up in bed gasping, hand clutching at his heart, unable to process the all-too-vivid and real pain inflicted by the dream. His eyes whipped around the unfamiliar room, trying to remember where he was, then the crashing of the waves through the open balcony doors reminded him: Seaside. His hands clutched the blankets around him, fingers noting different textures among the cotton, drawing his gaze down. The thin, embroidered material of Snow's white silk shawl was woven between his fingers along with the linens and her note nearly crushed in his grasp. Swiftly, he released the paper, hands flattening it out on his knee.

_My Beloved Charming,_

Snow's sweet, teasing voice echoed through his mind as he once again devoured the rest of the letter.

_All my love,_

_Your Bandit Snow_

Her laughter spilled from his memory, humor dancing in her emerald irises as she gazed up at him with such love.

His forehead pressed to his knee, trying to breathe through the pain still coursing through him.

Snow had never said those horrible things from the dream to him, never _would_ say that to him, just the opposite. Over and over she'd told him she loved him and wanted to be with him forever. She'd stolen some of his shirts, his bandit princess–James' lips curved into a small smile at that affectionate thought–to help soothe the sting of his absence. His hand pressed against his chest, catching both the shard of _Verum Aquilonem _and the ring hanging from the chain. She'd entrusted something of her mother's into his care, an item she treasured as a link to her beloved parent.

Carefully laying the letter on his bedside table, James shoved the blankets aside and rose quickly from bed, her shawl still clutched in his hand. He stalked over to the open balcony, bracing his hands on the railing as he gulped down the familiar salty sea air.

Seaside wasn't all that different from Seaborn; as the similarities in the names implied, they were kingdoms whose lifeblood was the oceans they sat upon. Though Eric's land wasn't as large or perhaps as craggy as James' and they had more sand beaches here rather than pebble ones. Still, the briny quality of the air and rhythmic crash of waves helped ease some of the tension in him.

Tears still stung his eyes and the remnants of those he'd shed in his sleep stiffened his cheeks. Was this what Snow had gone through with her nightmares? Gods, he hated that he wasn't there for her even _more _now. His hands itched to touch her, to run over every curve and burrow through her long hair. He longed to hear her actually say that she loved him, to banish the words from his dream. Pressing the heel of his free hand to his forehead, James gritted his teeth. That dream had felt _far_ too real for his comfort, as real as the one where he'd held his hand against Snow's pregnant stomach and felt their child move.

Focusing on keeping his breath even, James drew every memory of his beloved around him, clinging to all of the ways she'd told and shown him that she loved him and wanted to be with him forever. How he longed to rush down to the stables, saddle Cain–hell, forget a saddle, he'd ride bareback just to save time–and storm right back to Everland. Damn the consequences.

But the prince in him, the noble who knew better, pointed out that he couldn't break the mourning period so openly. The honorable part of his brain chimed in that even though he couldn't care less about his own reputation, he cared about Snow's _very_ dearly, and just rushing in would not only break the rules of the mourning, but would also damage her in the eyes of others. James' hands clenched on the railing. He could be singularly selfish when it came to her, he couldn't give her up, _ever_, but he'd gut himself before he hurt her.

He considered keeping this from her, saving her the added stress and pain, but then his own words from just two nights ago came back to him. James grimaced, he couldn't go back on his own word after making Snow swear not to do the very same thing ever again.

The prince rubbed the silky material of his love's shawl between his fingers, fixing her pleading gaze in his mind before forcing himself to the writing table in his room. James carefully lay the shawl on the table, fingers lingering. He finally lowered himself into the chair, drawing a blank parchment to himself and dipping the quill in the inkwell. His thumb flicked the feather thoughtfully before he set nib to paper.

_My darling Bandit Snow,_

_You don't know how it comforts me to know you have things of mine, to imagine you wearing my shirts._

Not exactly what he planned to say, but it was entirely true and suited to his rather possessive mood.

_I miss you already. It isn't helped by the visitation of a nightmare of my own. As real as the dreams we've talked about before. A nightmare where you're telling me that you don't love me and we can't be together. Ripping my heart out with tears in your eyes._

James' hand stilled over the letter; his mind had unconsciously been going over the details of the dream and he was now able to pick up on things his dream-self hadn't. The fact that she'd almost given in to the kiss, the forced quality of her smiles, how near falling apart she'd been the entire time.

_Looking back I see things in the dream-you that the dream-version of myself didn't seem to know you well enough to see. Things I recognize immediately..._

He frowned. How could he see all of that so vividly but his dream-self couldn't recognize it? James knew Snow better than anyone, just as she did him, and they _always_ called each other on it when they tried to hide anything. Why hadn't he seen the blindingly obvious signs in the dream? He wrote down all of these thoughts and observations.

_None of this makes sense...all I know is that I love you and need you in a way that is sometimes frightening. The whole rest of the world could go to hell and as long as you were there beside me it all would be just fine. I need to hear your voice, feel your breath on my face, hear your laughter, feel your skin against mine. The days until we can meet again seem interminable._

He absently stroked the fabric by his free hand.

_I love you, Snow. More than anyone or anything in this world. We will marry and have the life we've talked and dreamt of: love, laughter, children, working together all of our lives, and living fully with everything that comes with doing so, the joys and the pain. I want it all with you and only you, my bandit princess. You not only absconded with my shirts but my heart as well, long ago. Know that my heart is yours forever._

_All of my love,_

_Your hopelessly head-over-heels for you Charming_

After dusting the page with pounce so that it'd dry faster, and making sure the ink was no longer wet, he carefully folded it, pressing his seal into the red wax over the fold, and writing her name on the outside. He left it propped on his desk to send off first thing in the morning.

James then once again lifted the delicate, ornate cloth from the desk and returned to bed. He probably looked akin to a small child with a security blanket, but he didn't care, the prince clutched his beloved's shawl close as he settled under the covers, inhaling her scent deeply. Slowly, he drifted off into a sleep that while not long or necessarily restful was at least dreamless...for now.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

Aurora watched the servants rushing around the castle from the railing above the entrance hall. Last minute preparations for the arrival of her betrothed the next day… And she whole-heartedly wished she was _anywhere_ else.

"Aurora!"

The blond princess turned at the call, forcing a smile. "Yes, Mother?"

The queen's delight was evident on her face. "Have you decided what you're going to wear to meet Phillip?"

It took all of Aurora's willpower to keep the smile on her face and not roll her eyes. "I was thinking my blue dress with silver beading or the pink one with peach embroidery."

"Hmm…" Queen Leah compressed her lips, tapping a finger against them. "What about your lavender one?"

The princess gritted her teeth; that was her favorite gown and she certainly didn't want to taint it with any bad memories of Phillip's visit. "What about my rose-colored one? The one with the gold and pink beading?"

Leah looked thoughtful for a moment and then a smile lit her expression, obviously recalling the dress. "That would be lovely! We can weave a few orchids from the hot house into your hair." Her mother nodded firmly. "You're right, that will be absolutely perfect!"

Aurora just smiled, watching her mother hurry off, likely to choose the colors of orchids that would go best with her dress. Once the queen was out of sight, she finally let the smile drop and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

"I have always wondered why you didn't just tell your parents how you feel about this arrangement?" a voice softly commented behind her.

A wry, but soft grin graced the princess' face as she glanced over her shoulder. "I have tried, Fauna," she told her godmother.

The middle of the three sisters her parents had bestowed the title upon smiled kindly but pointedly. "Not explicitly, I believe."

"No," Aurora admitted, sighing. "But I don't think they'd really want to hear it even if I did…" She turned to fully face her favorite godparent. "Not without a good reason for refusing." She cocked an eyebrow. "And disliking him because of some childhood mischief and current rumors doesn't really qualify."

Fauna curved her arm through the princess' elbow. "I believe we could both use a cup of tea." She led her young charge down the hall toward her quarters. "As to your feelings about Phillip, we both know what the High Court rumor mill is like."

Aurora laughed softly, remembering some of the more outlandish ones that'd circulated over the years.

"And," the older woman continued, an amused smile on her face, "little boys tend to pick on little girls, it's apparently the natural order of things. Most grow up, and become at least relatively responsible and productive members of society. Making good husbands and wonderful fathers."

With a sigh the blonde leaned her cheek atop her godmother's head. Aurora loved all three of her godmothers, but Fauna was the one whom she could rely on to listen and give her advice, and to do so with a cool head. Quieter and clearer-headed than her two sisters, and other than Eric, Fauna was the one Aurora always leaned on.

James' words about Phillip echoed back to her.

"…_we all have our…tragedies. And they and the way we deal with them form us in many different ways."_

"I hope you're right," she murmured.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Waking the morning after the guests left was a much slower and laborious process than normal for Snow. Rising through the layers of sleep was like wading through molasses, the lure of dreamland constantly beckoning her back and reluctant to release her. Finally, she managed to drag her eyelids open, blinking groggily in the dim light.

_How far off was dawn?_ she wondered. Then she noticed a bright strip of light stretching across her covers, frowning as she followed it to a crack in her closed bed curtains. She didn't remember closing them.

It took blinking several more times, three deep breaths and rubbing away the sleep that crusted her eyes before Snow was awake enough to push herself up and draw aside the curtain. She almost dropped the cloth at the brightness that assaulted her eyes.

"Mistress!"

One arm shielding her eyes, Snow blinked blearily. "Lucy?" Her eyes slowly adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room, soon able to see her maid laying aside a dress she was mending–it looked to be Snow's green day dress, she'd caught the hem with her heel a couple of days before the funeral–and rising to move toward her.

The princess' green eyes flickered around the room. "What time is it?"

Lucy drew the bed curtains the rest of the way open. "Nearly ten, Princess."

"Ten?!" Snow was about to fling herself out of bed, but a surge of vertigo from rising too quickly and the sight of her bare legs, reminding her that she wore only Charming's shirt, made her sit back against the headboard, drawing the blankets up to her lap. She mentally thanked her maid for not commenting on her nightwear. "I've slept nearly half the day away." She shoved a hand through the tousled, curly mass of her hair, grimacing as her fingers caught on knots. "Why didn't anyone wake me up?" She hated sleeping in so late!

Lucy lifted a tray of food from a nearby table and brought it over to set on Snow's lap. "I was ordered by no less than five people to let you sleep as long as possible." The young maid leveled her with a look. "You haven't truly had a solid night of rest and woken naturally in months, Princess."

Snow chose to ignore that comment, no matter how true it might be because even though she'd slept better with James here than she had since Lochdubh, she'd still had to rise extra early to either leave his room or to help him sneak out of hers. "Who ordered this?"

"Prince James, for starters."

"He's not your liege," Snow pointed out.

Lucy cocked an eyebrow at her that clearly said, _Yet_.

The princess rolled her eyes, biting into a piece of bacon and immediately grimacing as her taste buds soured, apparently not keen on the flavor today. She spat it back out as discreetly as possible in her napkin, taking a sip of tea to wash the taste away.

"Along with Red, your father, Granny and King Gaspard." She stopped, glancing thoughtfully to the side. "Actually, make that six, Ella was rather insistent of it as well."

Green eyes narrowed into slits. "Do I get a say in my own kingdom?"

"When it comes to your health, milady, _no_," Lucy told her firmly.

The princess gave her a sour look which the maid pointedly ignored in favor of choosing a dress from Snow's rather lacking selection of dark colors.

Lucy sighed. "We should have more dark dresses made for you, you have so few."

Snow pushed the sleeve of Charming's shirt up as she grabbed the spoon so that the cuff wouldn't drag in her oatmeal. "Why? We aren't going to have visitors, so there's no one to impress and I'm rarely going to wear them except for funerals. It would be a shameful waste of goods and efforts."

The maid cast a droll look at her mistress. "Yes, but by the end of the morning period the few ones you have will likely be worn out."

"Then we'll replace them as needed," Snow informed her airily. "And I would prefer to wear my dark green skirt and stays with my brown blouse, please. I want to spend the day in the gardens, helping prepare the beds for the fall."

Lucy rolled her eyes but selected the items requested. That was Snow, she grieved by losing herself in tasks she enjoyed, especially ones that made her feel closer to the person she lost.

Snow carefully spooned the oatmeal into her mouth, grimacing as some nearly spilled onto the shirt; this was why she generally didn't like eating in bed, it could get messy. And she really didn't want to have to wash the shirts sooner than she had to because that would eliminate the residue of Charming's scent. She rubbed the soft cotton of the sleeve between her fingers, lifting it to her nose and breathing deeply, soothed by the smell of James' scent mingled with hers. Her heart fluttered as she grinned against the cloth, once again imagining his reaction to finding her note and the exchange that she'd made.

Choosing a pear slice from the plate, Snow lifted it to her grinning lips, biting into it as she further imagined what he would do when they saw each other again.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

The inn's staff loaded Liam and Belle's things into the carriage Thomas had left for them to take back to Riverdon. While Granny filled the young librarian's hands with food for the road, Liam drew Red off to the side.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right here?" he questioned, gaze intent on hers.

She smirked, eyebrow cocked. "I'm a werewolf under the protection of the crown and sister to the heir to the throne… I think I'm good."

Liam chuckled, both at her point and at the Storybrooke phrasing she used. "True, you've always been better equipped to protect yourself than I have." His expression turned self-deprecating

Red's expression fell and reaching out she grasped his face. "Don't say things like that. I wouldn't want you any different. I don't blame you for _anything_." She drew him to her, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't want you any different than as you are." A half-grin curved her mouth. "I rather love my arrogant, mad scientist-turned-general," she teased him.

He smirked, once again looking more his overconfident self, hands on her waist draw her closer. "I knew you could never resist me."

The lycanthrope snorted as she leaned into him. "There's the conceited ass I love," she said before their lips met.

It was long, lingering moments before they drew apart, her hands resting on his shoulders and his on her hips.

Liam's eyes opened to the sight of the castle over her shoulder, a topic that they hadn't yet discussed, but was dangling over their heads, moving to the forefront of his thoughts. "What about Regina?" he asked grimly.

Red turned her head to follow his gaze. "Granny said that she and Henry have never seen any indication that she remembers at all."

"But is she a threat to Snow and James?"

She shook her head slowly. "As far as we can tell, Regina's simply the product of this lifetime. She wasn't forced into the marriage with Leopold, in fact it was entirely her choice, and she and Snow didn't meet until after their engagement was announced." Red cupped his cheek to draw his attention back to her. "There are no signs that she hates Snow to a homicidal level. They don't necessarily get along or really like each other, but she doesn't seem intent on harming her either."

"Hmm…" He wasn't convinced, which of course she understood. James was his liege lord, someone he was utterly devoted to; Snow was his prince's love and future wife, so any threat to her he considered a threat to James.

Red slid her hands down to grip his. "Of course, I'll be keeping a close eye on them all," she added pointedly.

He relaxed…slightly. After a beat, his hands tightened around hers. "I'll return as soon as I can."

She released her grip and crossed her arms, looking at him archly, repressed humor sparkling in her eyes. "You'd better. The full moon isn't all that far off…I'd have to hunt you down if you didn't return soon."

Her lover raised his hands in mock surrender. "Well, I certainly don't want to anger a werewolf."

A grin spread across her face, arms still crossed.

Liam smirked, lowering his hands to grip her upper arms. "I'm gonna kiss you one more time…to tide us over until we see each other again."

She pursed her lips, trying to restrain her laughter. "Who said _I_ needed a kiss to tide me over?"

"I did." His mouth locked on hers before she could voice anything further.

When they pulled apart they were both grinning, though there was a bittersweet quality to their expressions.

She gently tugged on the collar of his leather doublet. "Love you, Frankenstein."

He grinned cockily. "Love you too, wolf-girl."

In spite of their words they kissed yet again before finally heading to the carriage where Belle had been studiously ignoring them and Granny watching them with a smirk; the rest of the staff and the stable hands were more circumspect. Liam handed the librarian up into the carriage and bid grandmother and granddaughter one last goodbye before climbing inside himself.

As they drove off, Liam's eyes remained trained on Red until she was out of sight.

"You two are nearly as bad as Snow and James," Belle informed him dryly.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And you and Gaspard are the _image_ of discretion…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside_

James had woken at dawn, tired and still troubled by the dream. The servants were only just setting the table for breakfast when he entered the small, private family dining room, waving off their concerns and simply placing some bacon, eggs and cheese between two slices of toast and pocketing a pear, while he drank a cup of coffee, then taking his chosen items with him and heading out. His first stop was the aviary, glad that Eric's parents had granted the Seaborn prince permission to use their pigeons the day before. With Snow's letter safely attached to the bird's leg he sent it off, reassured by the birds' master that Everland was one of the places the pigeons were most familiar with because of the friendships between the kingdoms.

His primary task of the morning complete, James headed down to the beach. There were meetings he was to attend but not until after lunch, making this time his. It was warmer here than back in Everland, and he pulled off his boots and socks, leaving them at the bottom of the steps leading from the castle to the beach.

The sand was cool and soft beneath his feet, the beat of the waves familiar and comfortable, conducive to thinking more through his dream and emotions more.

Though he _knew_ it'd only been a dream, and that Snow loved him as much as he loved her, it had felt _so_ real. The emotions so intense, shredding his heart and making it almost impossible to breathe whenever he thought of it. He pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart where he'd tucked Snow's note under his shirt, needing some piece of her close to him.

"James!"

He looked up at his brother's call.

"Thomas." James waited for him to catch up. "I thought early-rising was only my prerogative in the family."

The younger man shot him a droll look. "With all of the travelling recently I wasn't able to sleep any later."

The elder brother nodded, gaze returning to the shoreline as he resumed his walk.

"What has you so preoccupied?" Thomas inquired, falling into step with him.

James crossed his arms, feeling the press of the letter, ring and shard against his chest. "Just a bad dream…nightmare." His eyes went to the crashing waves. "And I miss Snow. I'm worried about her."

He could see Thomas nodding out of the corner of his eye. "I'm missing Ella. I was planning on travelling through Everland and stopping at Granny's on the way back home to see her."

The elder prince cut his gaze to his brother. "Would you mind extending the stay for a few days?"

Thomas halted, turning to his brother. "Well, it'll certainly be a _hardship_," he commented sarcastically but his expression was intrigued. "Why?"

James looked off to the side.

The younger man smirked. "You and Snow are meeting each other."

He couldn't meet his brother's gaze. "There's…a cabin where we can meet."

Thomas' eyebrows shot up, his brother's admission and what it implied obviously surprising him, but soon amusement colored his expression. "Well, lucky for you, Liam and I have women we love that we want to spend time with in Everland as well."

James turned back to him, a smile lifting his expression. "Thank you."

He grinned. "We're all fools in love."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Upon entering the small dining room for lunch, the heirs of Seaborn and Riverdon greeted their extended family warmly. Eric's parents, who'd insisted James and Thomas call them Aunt and Uncle since they were boys, had been thrilled to have their nephews visiting for the first time in years.

"How did you sleep?" Queen Catherine inquired.

James pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. "Wonderfully," he lied easily as he took his seat.

Everyone except Thomas bought it, and he said nothing as he mimicked his brother's actions. Though the elbow in the ribs let him know he wasn't off the hook.

"We received this letter," their uncle announced, drawing about half of their attention as they began to eat. "From your mother."

That got all of James and Thomas' attention.

"How is she?" Thomas was the first to ask since his brother had a mouth full of roast beef.

"She's doing well," King Shawn poured himself more water, "and she's coming to join us for the duration of your visit."

Both princes' eyebrows shot up.

"Is Father coming as well?" the younger prince inquired.

"No, she said that he had much work to do and couldn't take the time away at the moment."

"When does she arrive?" James leaned forward.

"Three days. She will be stopping through Riverdon where your general will accompany her the rest of the way."

"I haven't seen Aunt Ruth in longer then you," Eric glanced at his cousins, "I can't wait to see her again."

"I know she's just as anxious to see all of you as well," Thomas agreed.

Lunch passed with discussion of plans for when Ruth arrived. Afterwards, James and Thomas went to the elder prince's room.

"Mother never travels on her own like this," Thomas immediately stated the moment the door closed behind them. "Especially in such a spur of the moment fashion. What's going on?"

James leaned back against the frame of the open balcony doors. "The Hell if I know. I'm as thrown as you, little brother."

Thomas dropped into the chair at the writing desk, racking his mind as to why their mother would do something so far out of character. What was she trying to accomplish?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Riverdon_

Belle let out a relieved sigh as she set her satchel on her desk in Riverdon library. The ever familiar scent of books, which she associated with learning and knowledge, washed over her in comforting waves. Crates from the newest book shipment cluttered the floor, she grinned happily at the thought of the cataloguing and shelving ahead of her, eager to make order out of the chaos the books were likely in after being packed.

Her fingers lingered over her bag, remembering what was tucked inside, she lifted the flap and pulled out a brown paper-wrapped item. Gaspard had given it to her the day before when they'd met in the Everland library that morning.

_He held the rectangular package out to her._

_"What is it?" she asked, fingers running to the sealed edges of the wrapping paper, the familiar feel of a book inside._

_"Don't open it yet," he quickly requested. "It's a gift...but I would like it if you would wait until you are back in Riverdon before you open it."_

_She folded her arms, hugging the item to her chest. "All right, I promise I'll wait." Belle bit her lip. "Thank you."_

_Red lightly tinted his cheeks. "You're welcome."_

_"Oh!" the librarian gasped, suddenly remembering. She hurried over to her satchel, placing the gift inside before rummaging in it. "I nearly forgot." She drew out a book and blushingly handed it to him. "I wanted to give this to you. It's one of my favorites, the tales of King Arthur." She wrung her hands. "If you don't want to read it–I mean, if you've already read it–"_

_He grasped her fidgeting hands with his free hand, drawing her gaze back up to him from the floor. "I haven't...read it, I mean. But I would love to."_

Carefully, Belle tore the paper away, not surprised when a book was revealed. Its leather cover and bindings were intricately decorated with gilt roses, though no title was visible on the outside. Opening the cover she found a page with elegant yet masculine script scrolling over it.

_Belle,_

_This is the history of my kingdom, including its legends and myths. I hope to discuss them with you when next we meet._

_Gaspard_

She blushed at the informal way he both addressed her and signed the note. Such a gesture would be considered scandalous between a royal and a commoner. A quietly pleased smile curved her mouth as her fingers traced his name.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside_

Thomas entered his room already undoing the ties on his doublet. The talks after lunch had gone well, naturally, they'd just dragged on and on unnecessarily. Also he and James still had _no_ idea why their mother was coming to Seaside in such an uncharacteristic manner.

James had been distracted most of the day, though only Thomas knew him well enough to recognize it. Aside from missing Snow–he'd decided not to even _think_ about the fact that James had all but admitted to being intimate with the princess–the younger prince wondered what could be bothering his brother so much.

He tossed his doublet onto a chair, another item already draped over the back of it, a burgundy cloak. Thomas ran the fabric through his fingers, a smile lifting his expression.

_It was the day before the funeral; Ella bit her lip, blushing as she held the folded fabric out to him._

"_What's this?" he asked, grinning as he accepted it._

_She clasped her hands in front of her. "It's a cloak."_

_He stared at her for a moment, stunned._

_Her hands twisted back and forth. "I made it for you…it's colder here than back in Riverdon and Seaborn…I wasn't sure you–you had anything warm enough with you. A-and I just…I just _really_ wanted to make something for you. Something you can wear."_

_Thomas shook the fabric out, revealing a long, hooded cloak, the material was soft to the touch, yet thick. The sliver clasp at the throat was ornate knot-work, but it was familiar somehow, he ran a thumb over it._

"_It was on my father's favorite cloak."_

_He lifted a surprised gaze to hers._

_She was still blushing, hope alight in her eyes._

_His heart squeezed, she'd given him one of the last tangible links she had to her father. Thomas reached out with his free hand, palm cradling her cheek. "It's perfect. Thank you."_

_Ella's smile was radiant, leaning into his touch. "Do you want to try it on?"_

_After undoing the clasp, Thomas draped the cloak over his shoulders; Ella reached up and hooked the clasp and then smoothed her hands down his chest over the fabric._

"_Well?" She bit her lip. "What do you think?"_

_Thomas caught her wrists, keeping her palms pressed to his chest. "I love it."_

_Ella grinned, leaning in and pressing her lips to his._

_He couldn't help grinning into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her fully against him._

Thomas rubbed the cloth between his fingers, his thoughts turning to a very special order he made to the dwarfs–not Snow's friends in Everbrooke, another group at a smaller mine a few miles east–just two weeks ago. It should be ready in another month. His coronation was just over two months away… He wondered if he might be able to put the item to its intended use by then.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Snow opened the door to her room, entering with a weary sigh, grateful for the aches in her muscles that signaled she would sleep soundly that night. The steam rising from the mew on her washstand told of the hot water inside, bringing a smile to her face, the warmth would feel so good after the long hours in the garden. A tray of food was set out on the day table in the corner, Snow lifted the lid covering her food to reveal a thick stew and portion of crusty bread, her stomach rumbling loudly in anticipation. Breaking off a piece of the bread, the princess dipped it into the stew and chewed on it as she moved to the washstand, relishing the rich flavor of the stew coating the bread. By the time she was done washing up, the water she'd poured in the basin was brown and murky.

Feeling cleaner, she finally properly sat down to the meal Lucy had left for her, not minding her manners as she would have in company. The mug of hot chocolate coated her tongue with its thick sweetness, the cinnamon adding that…something she'd never been quite able to define, something that just tasted of…home. It was the only way she knew to describe it. The food and hot drink were comforting and relaxing; Snow drew one foot up and under her on the chair.

There was a sealed envelope sitting beside the tray that she hadn't noticed before, she lifted it, taking in the burgundy wax and the two rearing unicorns in it. Her mouth curled into a hopeful smile as she broke the seal and opened the letter eagerly. It was indeed from James as she'd hoped; fingertips pressed to her mouth, she grinned at his greeting. His comment about her wearing his shirts had her blushing but smiling, heat curling through her veins, easily able to imagine his expression.

As he described his dream, her actions and words, it felt as though she'd been hit with a battering ram in the chest. Knowing the pain he was feeling made her own heart bleed, that _any_ version of her could hurt him, even just a mere illusion, killed her. It warmed her heart though as he told her again how much he truly loved her and all of his hopes and dreams for their future. Laughter bubbled from her at the way he signed the letter, fingers tracing over her nickname for him and what he'd added.

She took the remnants of her dinner and the letter with her over to her desk, sitting down and pulling a fresh parchment toward her.

_My Charming,_

_I love you. Eternally and truly I love you. More than anyone or anything. I will love you until I die, and beyond, into the life after this. I will tell you I love you every day we live, a hundred times a day if you wish. You said that you already thought of me as your wife, I feel the same. I think of you as my husband._

_Do you need to see me? I can be at the cabin tomorrow if you want me to be. Just tell me what you want. What you need. I know I denied you the chance to help me through what I went through with my dreams, but I desperately want to be there for you. I love you, Charming._

_You don't need to worry about me, I'm all right. Red, Ella and Granny seem determined to check on me every half hour. My father is already demanding that I rest more. The staff listen to you more than I–yes, Lucy told me that you ordered her to make sure I got enough rest, and I'll forgive you this time for your over protective tendencies. I haven't had any further nightmares since the first night you were here for the funeral. I have dreamed about other things though. Last night I dreamt of you. We walked along the shore of a sea, you went down on one knee and proposed to me; I felt such joy as you slid your mother's ring on my finger._

_I love you with every fiber of my being, with every beat of my heart._

_All my love,_

_Your Snow_

_P.S. I thought it might interest you to know that I sleep in your shirts._

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar the next day…_

Aurora's jaw was clenched almost painfully tight as she watched the Royal Carriage of Lochlomond pull up in front of her family's palace. Her hands were clenched before her, knuckles white, unable to smile, but managing to keep a relatively pleasant expression on her face. Her parents on the other hand smiled delightedly.

The carriage door opened, and the princess took a deep breath, bracing herself for the first sight of her betrothed in so many years.

Phillip was both exactly what she was expecting…and yet not. He was tall, dark-haired and handsome–which from the way he carried himself he was _well_ aware of–but… There was something in his movements as he stepped down from the carriage and approached her and her parents that was almost…tentative. Was it possible he was actually as nervous about meeting her as she was him? Aurora saw his eyes straying to her many times, even as he bowed to her parents.

After greeting her father and mother, he moved to stand before her, flashing a confident grin, and perhaps, if she hadn't spoken to James before that might have been all she saw. But she looked closer, into his eyes, and saw something more.

She held her head high, still wary, but let her grip on her hands loosen and her jaw release, and gave him her hand when he reached for it.

"Princess Aurora, a pleasure." He bowed over her hand, a smirk playing at his lips, though the pain still lingered at the back of his eyes.

The blonde curtseyed. "Prince Phillip. It's been many years." She kept her voice neutral, not betraying a feeling one way or the other towards him.

"Please," King Stephan said jovially, "come inside and settle in! We have plenty of time to catch up over the next few days."

Phillip offered Aurora his arm; she looked down at it for a moment, taking a deep bracing breath before laying her hand on his arm and allowing him to escort her.

Imagining the image they must make, the two of them walking up the steps together, the princess of Glenbriar silently prayed that they could make this work. That she and Phillip could rule together amicably and have a good marriage.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Riverdon_

It was a rare occasion indeed to see Liam wearing an expression that was anything less than amused or at least tinged with amusement, very little truly phased him. But this morning, staring at the letter in his hand he was distinctly surprised and actually ruffled by whatever it contained, and Belle secretly enjoyed being privy to this moment over their breakfast.

"May I ask who your letter is from?" she inquired politely.

"Queen Ruth," the general said after a beat, setting the parchment aside. "She's going to be passing through here tonight on her way to Seaside."

Belle's spoon paused just before her mouth. "Without the king?"

"Yes." He continued eating. "Hama is traveling with her here, I'll be joining her the rest of the way."

Thoughtfully, the librarian chewed the spoonful of fruit. "Did she say why she was making the journey?"

Liam shrugged a touch uneasily. "She made no mention of any reason beyond wanting to join her sons in a visit with relatives she hasn't seen in a long while."

The brunette watched the man she considered one of her brothers. He had been much quieter of late, introspective, as if there was a great deal weighing on his mind and he was trying to work through it all. It was so very uncharacteristic of him, an almost disturbing change.

"Liam."

Looking up, he gave a distracted, "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

She could tell from his expression he was going to brush her off. "_Truthfully_."

His mouth snapped shut, watching her carefully for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"You've been too quiet, so very preoccupied since before we left Everland." Her thumb rubbed the spine of Gaspard's book resting beside her hand. "I'm just worried with you being so out of form."

A smirk curved one corner of Liam's mouth. "I just have a lot to think about. A few things happened while I was in Everland and I just need to figure them out. I'm perfectly fine, Belle."

Finally with _something_ to go on, she leaned forward. "Does it have to do with Red?"

"In part…" His expression took on a self-deprecating cast at her dubious look. "In _large_ part," the general amended.

"Will I be gaining another new sister-in-law in the near future?"

That prompted the first full round of real laughter from him that Belle had heard in days. "I think I can safely answer yes to that…unless of course Red decides to be contrary, which she is apt to do."

Belle cocked an eyebrow. "You do realize how lucky you are that she even gives you the time of day, right?"

His expression sobered for once. "Don't worry, I'm _fully _aware that I don't deserve her."

The seriousness, with the faintest tinge of self-loathing, was so very foreign for him that it disturbed Belle in a ways that very little _ever_ did.

"Liam…"

Reaching over, he covered her hand with his, and grinned wryly. "Don't you worry, Belle, I'll be right back to form in no time."

She watched his hand slip away from her own. So much about him was…off. She hoped and prayed that he was right, that he would be back to himself in time.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

"And here are the training grounds," Aurora said as she led Phillip into the open space. She was giving her betrothed a tour of Glenbriar at her father's insistence.

"Spend much time here?" There was a sarcastic lilt to his voice that had the princess narrowing her eyes.

"A _little_."

Before he could finish turning to face her Aurora had expertly drawn one of the swords from the rack and leveled it less than an inch from his Adam's apple. Eyebrows raised, his gaze slowly followed the blade up to her eyes.

The point unwavering, she shrugged. "All of my friends are skilled with weapons, they were insistent I be as well."

"You know, I just realized that a woman wielding a weapon is quite arousing."

With a disgusted scoff Aurora lowered and replaced the sword in the rack. "Are you _really _such a cad or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?"

"Keep playing with that sword and you'll get a rise out of _me_."

She glared at him. "Is it even remotely possible for you to _not_ be crass?"

"I _do _have a reputation to maintain, sweetheart," Phillip stated with a smirk and careless shrug.

Crossing her arms, Aurora eyed him speculatively. "I'm curious about something."

"I believe there's a saying about that particular virtue being a feline' s doom."

Ignoring his flippant comment, she continued, "Why are you going along with this betrothal? We don't know each other and by all accounts I'm not the kind of woman that interests you."

The dark-haired prince gazed at her thoughtfully for a few moments. "Why are _you _going along with it?"

Annoyance pricked her at his turning the question around, but rather than picking a fight over it she shrugged uncomfortably and said, "My parents want it. It's a good match for the kingdom. And I don't have any other prospects really."

Philip tapped a finger on the hilt of his sword, she noted the similarity of the gesture to the one she'd seen in James.

"My father," he began slowly, apparently having decided what to say, "his health is...not the best. His physician, the staff and I try to curb his bad habits so as to prolong his life and improve his health, but he's very...resistant to the changes." His gaze cut to the side. "All he's ever wanted was to see me married, the kingdom secure, and–" He broke off, staring fixedly at something in the distance for long moments before his eyes returned to hers. "My father's dearest wish is to bounce his grandchildren on his knee. I want to give him that. And I need to do what is best for my kingdom." His mouth tightened momentarily into a thin, white line. "And I too have no other prospects."

There was only perhaps five feet of flat ground between them but it may as well have been a yawing chasm. Could they find enough common ground between them to bridge it?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Less than two days later and things had settled back into their old rhythm for Ella, back to her chores around the dwarfs' home and her own, helping out sometimes at the Inn or the castle. Today Snow was helping her with the chores that'd piled up with all of the goings-on for the funeral. The dwarfs of course hadn't said a word of complaint when their laundry and dishes and household cleaning fell to the wayside, but Ella still felt guilty and wanted to get things caught up finally.

She finished folding one of Bashful's shirts and looked up in time to see Snow, who was scrubbing the clothing on the washboard, press a weary hand to her forehead and sway slightly. "Snow!" The blonde hurried to her side, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder, worry clouding her expression.

The princess waved her off, though the smile she forced onto her face was wan. "I'm fine."

A scowl furrowed Ella's brow as she forcibly drew her friend away from the washtub and to a seat at the table. "No, you're not. You look like a light breeze could blow you over. Sit." She pushed Snow into the chair before heading over to one of the kitchen counters. "It is nearly lunch anyway." That wasn't wholly true; it would be a _very_ early lunch.

Snow gave her a tired, but grateful smile. "Thank you. I'm actually starving."

A loaf of bread, cheeses and a bottle of wine had been set aside for the meal, Ella brought them over to the table, placing the food directly in front of Snow.

The princess' head reared back, hand clamped over her mouth, making a choking sound before bolting from the table and outside. Ella followed closely behind her with worried enquiries, the dark-haired woman barely made it to a tree a couple of yards from the house before throwing up. Snow continued to cough and gag for several moments longer after she'd emptied everything that had remained in her stomach. The blonde kept a grip on her friend's upper arms, trying to keep her upright, watching her with ever-growing concern.

Once Snow's heaving had ceased and she was breathing deeply, Ella led her back into the house, but the princess balked when her friend started directing her to sit at the table. The blonde didn't question it, instead getting her to a stool by the sink, she then ran a cloth under the water from the pump and filled a glass.

"Here." Ella handed her friend first the rag, so that she could wipe her mouth, and then the glass.

Snow took a mouthful, swished it around and then spat it back out into the sink, repeating the process two more times before actually swallowing any of the cool liquid. "Thank you," she murmured.

Ella rubbed the princess' shoulder. "Are you all right, Snow? _Really_?"

She slowly nodded. "Yes, it was just…one of the cheeses, the smell was so strong and it turned my stomach. I'm probably still just having a few issues recovering from the last few months."

A single blond eyebrow rose. "You mean from the way you completely ran yourself into the ground and beyond?"

Snow rolled her eyes, but smiled amusedly. "As you say."

"Here." Ella reached over, ripped off half of the loaf and handed it to her friend. "Eat this, _slowly_, and I'll make you some hot chocolate. It'll probably be easier on your stomach than the wine."

"Ella," she protested, "I don't want you to trouble yourself–"

"Snow, you're one of my dearest friends, _ever_," the blonde swiftly countered as she began the process of making the hot cocoa. "You would do exactly the same for me. Besides," she smirked at the princess, "do you think I _want_ Red and Granny out for my blood?"

A soft laugh flowed from Snow, she gazed at her friend with a fond smile. "True… You are one of my dearest friends as well, Ella. I'm forever grateful to have met you and become friends. Thomas is a good man, I know you and he will be happy." A grin grew on her face. "And I will be _very_ happy to get to call you sister."

The blonde's eyes flew wide, her mouth dropping open slightly. "I hadn't thought about that… I've never had a sister before, not a _real_ one. My stepsisters weren't…"

Snow reached over, covering one of her friend's hands with her own. "The only sister I've ever had is Red…" She grinned broadly. "I'll be glad to call you such, not just of the heart but in actuality."

Ella pressed fingertips to her lips, the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I really _am_ going to have a family," she breathed.

Her new sister squeezed her hand. "Ella, you already _have_ one."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_The next day…_

People, Liam mused inwardly, truly underestimated the will and cunning of a determined mother.

Ruth had arrived at Riverdon the previous evening and informed him that they would be leaving the following morning…and spending the night in Everland.

The general reminded the queen that the royal family was in mourning, as such she would not be able to stay in the castle, but she blithely responded that the inn would do perfectly well. Liam was fairly certain that Ruth was fully aware of how close Snow was to Red and Granny and the likelihood that she would be at the inn.

Yes, Queen Ruth was one of the canniest people Liam had ever known, and even though she was much smaller than he and hadn't any skill at fighting, the general was _very_ scared of her.

Red's jaw dropped open as she saw him ride up in front of the inn, the Seaborn carriage right behind him.

"Liam!" She moved to meet him where he was dismounting, eyes going back and forth between him and the carriage. "What…?" Her question trailed off unasked, eyes flying wide as saucers when Ruth stepped out of the carriage. "Your Majesty!" She dropped into a curtsey. "We hadn't expected you."

The innkeeper's granddaughter's eyes cut to Liam who just shrugged helplessly.

Her concerns were waved aside with a smile. "I know. I'm not here in any official capacity. I'm only staying the night before continuing on to Seaside to join my sons."

The dark-haired woman swallowed. "Please, come in, we'll see you to your quarters." She bowed, gesturing for the queen to follow her.

The pub portion of the inn was closed, too late for lunch and not quite time for dinner, and the front rooms were empty.

"Red, what on Earth is all the commotion, girl?" Granny appeared from the kitchen, the moment she saw the queen her eyebrows shot up. Liam and Red wondered if she was going to say anything as scandalous as what she said to James the first time she met him. "Your Majesty." She executed the first curtsey Liam had _ever_ seen or heard about from her.

Grandmother and granddaughter shared a glance that Liam wasn't able to read.

"The queen is seeking accommodations for the night." Red's interlocked fingers twisted back and forth.

A single grey eyebrow rose on Beatrix of Everbrooke's forehead. "We are honored to offer whatever hospitality we can, though our means are humble."

"I'm quite happy with whatever you have available." A warm smile lit the queen's features. "I was also hoping that I might impose on you to pass on my condolences to the royal family. I knew Lord Henry, he was a friend and I miss him."

Granny and Red shared another look.

"We'll…we'll let them–"

"Red. Granny."

Everyone looked up at the soft voice.

Princess Snow White–wearing a dress that was so dark that you almost couldn't call it green but black instead–stood in the now-open doorway to the kitchen, watching them all with a calm gaze. She looked better than when Liam last saw her, healthier, the dark circles under her eyes had faded to hardly more than faint smudges.

"It's all right," Snow told her grandmother and sister. She moved forward, stopping before the queen and dipping into a curtsey. "Your Majesty."

Ruth bowed her head. "Princess."

Granny's shrewd eyes flickered back and forth between the two royals. "There's no one in the kitchen right now, nor will anyone save us have any reason to enter any time soon."

Snow smiled and nodded her gratitude before turning back to the queen. "Your Majesty." She gestured toward the door.

"Thank you," Ruth said, nodding to her hostess before following Snow.

After the door closed, the remaining three stood in silence for several moments.

"I'm wondering if I should make some comment about this being highly irregular and completely against the rules of the mourning," Granny commented offhandedly.

Liam turned to her. "Instead, how about we all just sit down and have a drink…or ten."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow offered Ruth a seat at the table, which she accepted, and then moved over to the teapot sitting on the counter, she brought it to the kitchen table before retrieving two cups. They were silent while the princess poured them each a cup, it wasn't until they'd each taken a sip that they finally spoke.

"I love James," Snow said softly, staring down into her cup. "More than anyone in this world or any other."

Ruth smiled. "As he does you. I'm not here to judge your feelings, I just wanted to finally see you and speak with you properly. Preferably _before_ my son proposes."

The princess lifted her eyes to her future mother-in-law. "I just…I just wanted to make sure that _you_ knew how much I love him. How important he is to me."

The elder woman gazed at her watchfully. "James told you the truth of his paternity."

It wasn't a question but Snow still nodded.

"The love his father and I had for each other was true, deep and eternal. The way he looked at me is the same way James looks at you, or even when he's simply talking about you." Her eyes lit up with a warm smile. "And the same love is in your eyes."

Snow looked down, blushing, but Ruth placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face again.

"I have no doubts or worries about your feelings for my son, or his for you." She gently smoothed a thumb across her daughter-to-be's cheek. "You will be happy together."

Finally, with those words, the dark-haired woman's face relaxed into a smile.

"And you'll be wonderful parents."

The smile slipped, green eyes fell to the tabletop again.

Concern instantly flared within Ruth. "What is it?"

Snow clasped her hands around her cup tightly. "How can you know I'll be a good mother?" she questioned.

The queen's eyebrows flew up. "What?"

Slowly the princess turned the cup between her palms. "It's just… My-my mother…"

Understanding and compassion cleared the confusion. "You were…very young when she died."

With a glance into the accepting brown eyes of the woman she would soon call mother, Snow finally continued. "Aside from Granny and Hannah's guidance…I grew up–I grew up without a mother. How-how do you know I'm going to be a good mother if I haven't had one for most of my life?"

Ruth took Snow's hand in hers. "Because you _want_ to be a good one, and you love wholly and deeply, just like my son." A bright smile curved her mouth. "And _I'm_ a mother, so I _know_." She winked.

Snow didn't look really any more comforted.

The queen studied her closely. "Is there more?"

One slim, pale finger tapped the table softly, the young woman biting her lip fretfully. "What if…" Taking a deep breath she began again. "What if I _can't_ have children?" Green eyes slowly lifted to meet brown. "My mother had difficulty becoming pregnant…and giving birth to her second child, who was stillborn, nearly killed her, and she died not long after of a broken heart."

Finally it all made sense to Ruth, all of her future daughter-in-law's anxiety. Snow knew how much James wanted children, she did as well, but what frightened her was not being able to give the man she loved the children they both wanted.

"My son would love you no matter what," Ruth told her firmly, keeping their eyes locked. "Even if you two could never have children he would want you and love you for all of your lives."

This seemed to give her some comfort, even garnering a small smile.

Ruth reached to the back of her neck, unclasping the necklace she wore. "My mother gave this to me when I was pregnant." She held the pendant up for Snow to see. "She said that a gypsy spelled it to be able to tell the sex of your first child, even before you conceive." She swung the pendent back and forth one direction. "North to south, it's a boy." Then she made it swing in the perpendicular direction. "East to west, a girl."

Snow's eyes had widened and she leaned forward more eagerly. "And…" her voice quavered a bit, "it works?"

The queen smiled at her reassuringly. "It did for me with my boys."

There was an aching longing in the young woman's face.

Ruth leaned forward conspiringly. "Why don't we try it, just between the two of us?"

Snow's expression was torn between nerves and longing, slowly she allowed her future mother-in-law to draw her hand to the middle of the table. It was shaking with terror, imagining, with startling clarity, the pendent hanging completely immobile above her hand and the stab of pain to follow at the sight. She nearly snatched her hand back as Ruth let the necklace dangle over her palm, but the queen held firm.

For interminable heartbeats there was no sound except the roaring in the princess' ears and then the sudden whoosh of the breath she hadn't realized she was holding escaping.

The silver pendent swung gently but definitively over her palm.

Lips trembling, Snow lifted her emerald eyes to meet Ruth's warm, happy ones.

"A girl," the queen told her.

"A girl." Snow's voice was choked with emotion, tears gathering in her eyes. "We're going to have a daughter."

Ruth lowered the necklace into the princess' palm, closing her fingers over it. "Yes. You are." She kept Snow's hand clasped in both of hers. "And you are going to be a _wonderful_ mother."

The young woman's other hand rose to grip their already joined hands, tears of joy and relief finally slipping down her cheeks. "Thank you."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside the next morning…_

James might not have really been sleeping, more like lightly dozing, but that didn't mean he was pleased to be roused by a face full of fluttering feathers and persistent chirping.

"What the hell?" he groused, swiping his hand in front of his face, not actually hitting the bird that apparently decided to accost him so early that morning, but it did seem to drive the creature back.

Sitting up, he finally opened his eyes to find one of Snow's bluebirds staring up at him expectantly; it began twittering at him again once it saw that it had his attention.

Worry spiked through him. "Is something wrong?"

The bird chirped a couple more times before lifting off and dropping a letter into his lap and then flying out the window. He wasn't sure what to make of the animal's actions, it'd acted as if there was something urgent happening, but leaving so soon, without waiting for a response didn't seem like it was too worried. And James knew that some of his beloved's feathered friends were just naturally excitable.

He unfolded the letter, relief washing through him at the calm, even happy, flow of her script, betraying no agitation.

James wondered how sad it was that they couldn't seem to go one day without contacting each other. He'd received a letter from her yesterday morning in response to the one he'd sent after his nightmare. Her constant repetitions of her love for him had gone a long way toward soothing his heart and her offer to even be at the cabin the next day sent waves of warm affection through him. Then there was her postscript… He tried to forcibly turn his mind from it, though he wasn't entirely successful and images of Snow in his shirt, lying in bed–preferably with him–drifted through his mind pleasantly.

Forcing himself to focus on the letter in his hand, he began reading. In the first paragraph she responded to his last letter, letting him know that while she understood why they couldn't meet at the cabin yet she was anything but pleased. Gods, how James had wanted to just drop everything and meet her there, still did, but with his mother arriving today it wasn't possible for him to get away unnoticed. There had been few times in his life that he'd loathed his responsibilities more.

She reassured him that she was doing well–he intended to write Red or Ella to verify this statement–she did admit to keeping busy, but once again told him that her friends and the staff of the castle were making sure she got enough food and rest. The tone of her letter became stern, chastising him that if he was going to make sure she was taken care of from afar then he'd better be taking care of _himself_ as well.

Laughter rumbled from him as Snow regaled him with Doc's latest invention-debacle–something called a blender, meant to be used in cooking–Ella had been less than amused with the results in her kitchen.

Her writing took on an excited note as she told him her father had sat out on his balcony for lunch yesterday. The first time he'd been out of bed since the illness, and that Doc had been very pleased with the progress, but they were all taking it _very_ slow and being extremely cautious.

James was smiling as he read her closing statement of her love, and about to set the letter aside when writing on the back caught his eye. It was a post script that had his jaw dropping.

_P.S. I adore your mother._

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

Yes, Snow IS pregnant. *plugs ears for the squealing and "I knew it"s* XD Now we just need Snow to find out and then tell Charming. ;-) Did you guys like Ruth and Snow's talk? It's one I've been excited to write for a long time, one of the scenes I've had in my mind for the longest. Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! :-D


	23. Chapter 20: Truth, Lies and Alibis

Sorry that it took a while to get this posted! I hope that you guys like everything! :-D

Thank you, dartie! :-D For the fangirling, edits and saving me from accidental crossovers of fandoms! XD *attack hug*

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

**Chapter 20: Truth, Lies and Alibis**

_Everland_

It was much earlier than either Liam or Red tended to rise, but they wanted time alone. He watched her move around the kitchen with an ease completely foreign to him, he'd never been handy in the kitchen–Dr. Whale had been partial to takeout, microwave dinners and meals at the diner. She placed plates loaded with eggs–scrambled with goat cheese for her and sunny-side up for him, their respective favorites–breakfast potatoes–she preferred pancakes but knew that he loved her potatoes–bacon and two large cups of coffee–blacker than night down for both of them.

Liam caught her hand before she sat down, reaching up to cup the back of her neck with his other palm and kiss her. "Thank you, Red."

A smirk curled her lips, though affection bled through the humor. "Well, if that's the thanks I get for simply making a meal then I might be persuaded to cook more often."

He chuckled, watching her sit down, knowing full-well that Red actually enjoyed cooking almost as much as archery competitions with Snow.

Hands cradling her cup, Red watched him eagerly dig into his breakfast. "How are you dealing?"

Blue eyes lifted to hazel ones, her expression and posture so familiar he couldn't help grinning. After regaining their memories in Storybrooke, Red was often found at Granny's counter listening to people's problems and trying to help.

"All right. It's…things have…settled down, in my mind and heart." He watched her for a few moments. "How've you always handled this so well? Both times? I know that most of us struggled to incorporate the other parts of ourselves, but you always just seemed to do it seamlessly."

Red turned the mug between her hands, a habit she and Snow shared, though neither could say who'd picked it up from whom. "It was…a shock at first, both times. But… I don't know." She shook her head, struggling to explain it. "I think…I think because of the…because of the wolf part of me. The experience of having to incorporate that part of myself, I think it helps me to be able to cope with additional lives and memories."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I hadn't thought of that, but it makes sense."

Grinning, she poured them both more coffee. "Granny actually suggested it, and since she seems to have the same ability to assimilate it like I can, I think it's probably accurate."

"You know," Liam reached across the table, letting his fingers entwine with hers, "that steadiness, that level-headedness, it's what draws people to the both of you. The way you two listen and understand, few have that." Blue eyes stared into hazel. "It's one of the things I love most about you."

Red's gaze dropped to the table, trying to fight back the blush creeping up her cheeks. "I thought it was Snow's prince's job to be charming."

He smirked cockily, love still alight in his eyes. "I have my moments."

Lips pursed, teasing lit her eyes. "Rare ones."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"Snow? Princess, where are you?"

Snow's eyes fluttered open, bleary gaze scanning her surroundings, attention drawn to the chill against her cheek. It took far longer than it should to realize that she was lying of the floor of the privy.

"Snow!" Worry rang in Lucy's voice.

"I'm in here!" she called out. "In here…"

"Are you all right?" Her maid's voice was louder, she must've been right outside the door.

"Yes… I'm fine…" Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, Snow took a deep breath. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

She was fairly certain she heard doubt tingeing the inaudible mutters fading from the door.

Snow grimaced as she caught sight of the garderobe, remembering why she was there.

_She practically had her head hanging over the garderobe, heaving her dinner up before she was actually aware she was conscious. After several long rounds of vomiting she finally collapsed on the floor, the cool stone of the floor felt heavenly against her feverish flesh._

Snow didn't remember anything after that, she must've passed out. She closed the cover on the garderobe, once again blessing the fact that her father had built one in each of their rooms rather than only having communal ones per floor. It would've been humiliating to be found in such a state outside of her quarters. Standing, she moved to the washstand, pouring the remaining water from the pitcher into the basin and splashing it on her face. As she pat her face dry with a hand towel, Snow felt much more alert; her emerald eyes opened and took in her reflection, she was paler than normal and there were shadows under her eyes. She'd always been so healthy, why had she been experiencing nausea so frequently? The princess frowned in thought.

_What on Earth was going on?_

Ruth's pendant swinging slightly around her neck caught Snow's attention, sparking in her mind something she hadn't imagined until this moment. Catching the chain between her thumb and forefinger with one hand she watched the pendant swing–east to west–over the palm of her other.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside_

James and Thomas were already standing outside when their mother arrived.

"James! Thomas!" A wide smile adorned Ruth's face as she stepped down from the carriage and embraced each of her sons, both of them hugging her back tightly. Her attention was diverted when Eric and his parents came down the steps and they exchanged fond greetings.

James lead his mother to her room and Thomas made himself scarce, easily able to see that his older brother needed to talk with her alone.

"Mother," the prince began once they were out of earshot, "why did Snow say she adored you in the letter I received just this morning?"

"She's a very sweet young woman," Ruth commented airily, but the twitching at the corner of her mouth belied her casual tone.

He gently pulled her to a stop, his raised eyebrow attesting to how little he bought her excuse. "You went and saw her, didn't you?"

Stepping up to her door, Ruth blinked her eyes innocently. "Would I break the rules of mourning?"

"Yes," James stated bluntly.

Mischief sparkled in her brown eyes. "She's an incredible woman." She opened the door, grinning. "You and she will be extremely happy." His mother closed the door on his gaping face, still smiling broadly.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Snow knocked on Regina's door. Her stepmother hadn't been down for breakfast or lunch, so Snow volunteered to bring food up to the grieving woman. "Stepmother, it's Snow."

There was a long pause before she heard, "Come in."

She pushed the door open; Regina stood before the windows, her back to the princess. "I brought you something to eat, stepmother."

"Place it on the table." The elder woman gestured to the day table.

Snow did as she was told then turned to leave but stopped and turned back. "How are you feeling, stepmother?" She didn't know why she asked, but fully expected to be brushed-off or receive no reply at all.

"Heartsick," Regina answered simply.

The princess was stopped dead by the honest, straightforward answer, shocked at the lack of evasion or hostility. She knotted her hands together in front of her. "Is there anything I can do or get you to help?"

"No." The queen continued to gaze out the window. "Only time can heal what ails me."

Nothing was said for several moments; Snow took this as her dismissal and began to leave.

"Did I ever explain to you why I was so insistent on you marrying?"

Snow was stunned that her stepmother was actually volunteering _anything _to her. "No." She turned to face Regina.

The queen didn't look at her, just stared at the orange and red of fall starting to mottle the green trees. "You're very headstrong, stubborn."

The princess raised one eyebrow, unimpressed with this beginning of the conversation.

"You were _insistent_ on not marrying, and I can understand wanting that control over your life, and that by law you aren't _required_ to marry. But…" Her eyes lowered to the floor, taking a deep breath. "You don't _truly_ realize how lonely being a spinster is, or how hard it is to receive the respect you're due from your male peers or how…_vulnerable_ a single woman is, even a noble or royal."

Snow watched Regina's long fingers trace patterns over the window pane. "When I was your age I hadn't found true love and refused to marry at all. Mama–my stepmother, my father's second wife–had passed and my father…" her voice cracked slightly at the mention of Henry; she cleared her throat and continued. "He wanted me to be happy so he let me do as I chose." Her hand fell to her side again, fingers curling into a fist. "One man decided that my single status made me fair game."

It took a heartbeat for Snow to comprehend what her stepmother was alluding to; she gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.

Regina didn't even flinch, her face like stone. "A lesser man would've forced his daughter to marry her defiler, but Daddy instead went to King Leopold seeking justice on my behalf."

Snow had never heard this story; she'd been in Glenbriar visiting Aurora when her father met Regina, returning to the announcement of her father remarrying.

"The king saw to it that the man was punished to the full extent of the law. During this time I met and talked with your father several times and was surprised to find, even with our distance in ages, we got along well and I enjoyed his company." Her gaze dropped to her hands loosely clasped in front of her. "Your father felt that you were of an age when you particularly needed a mother and he proposed a marriage between us. He promised that he did not require us to consummate it if I did not wish to, but what he offered was kindness, care and respect."

She canted her head in Snow's direction, though still not looking at her. "You know that I'm not in love with your father, but I have always cared for him, and his gentleness and goodness were balm to the injuries of what was done to me." Regina stared back at the window. "I realized that as his wife I would be protected and, at least in this kingdom, even after his death as the king's widow I would have a protection I wouldn't otherwise be afforded. After meeting you I realized that your father was mistaken. You were basically full grown, a confident young woman, who'd already been successfully guided into adulthood." Finally Regina turned to face her. "You didn't need me. But…I began to realize that your father did."

The princess nodded; yes, this was entirely true.

A small smile lifted the queen's lips. "You're grown up, and even for all your protesting that you didn't want to marry I knew that you _would_. And when that day came you would have your own family to care for, who'd take up your time and attention along with the needs of the kingdom."

Snow's gaze dropped to her hands, she'd thought about this with increasing frequency since Charming came into her life.

"Your father needs a companion, someone who can help care for him and keep him company."

Emerald eyes lifted to meet the dark brown ones of her stepmother.

"And _that_ is why I married your father. That is why I've pushed for you to meet so many men in search of a husband for you. Because no woman should have to live out her life alone if she does not wish it… _And_ I wouldn't wish what happened to me on _anyone_."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

Phillip was sick.

Sick of always hearing Prince Eric's name strung along with his betrothed's. Sick of hearing of upcoming events Aurora would be attending with the Seaside heir in attendance as well. Sick of reminiscences about the Glenbriar princess and _Eric_ growing up.

For how their names were always conjoined they might as well be attached at the hip.

What the _hell_ had she been talking about when she said she had no prospects?! Obviously she'd had one most of her life. Was it unrequited? Did they fear family disapproval? He doubted the second, her parents spoke of him _very_ highly and with great affection.

Phillip had _no_ interest in having a ménage a trois in his marriage bed. Absolutely no patience for another man between him and his wife, he thought, gritting his teeth. Even if it was just a memory…or regrets.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_She approached her car, coffee in hand–she liked a late-night cup sometimes, he remembered, especially when she was feeling stressed or had a lot on her mind or had to stay up to grade papers. Taking a deep breath he called out, "Hey." He didn't have the right to say her name. It was borderline sacrilege that he even attempted to talk to her after all that he'd done._

_Her dark head whipped around at his voice. "David." Her voice was breathless._

_Oh, how he loved how she said his name, how it sent his heart skipping a beat and then racing. But he forced all that from his head, needing to get out what he'd come here to say, and whether or not she accepted it, she deserved his apology–she deserved a _hell_ of a lot more than that, but this was what he _could_ give her… "I was wrong…"_

_She turned to face him fully, giving him the benefit of her undivided attention. Gods, he didn't deserve her._

_"About you, about me, about…" he looked around, trying to conjure up the right words to encompass what he meant and then gave a self-deprecating laugh, "_everything_." Gods, what an incomprehensible idiot and ass he'd been._

_She opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly continued; he _had_ to say _all of it_._

_"I didn't believe in you, and I _wish_ I had a good reason why…" Why in all nine hells had he _ever _questioned her innocence?! It made absolutely _no_ sense looking back on it. He took another deep breath before continuing. "But it's like I keep making these _wrong_ decisions, and I don't understand _why_ they keep happening." Truly, _so much_ of what he'd done since he'd woken up in regards to her was completely irrational in hindsight; it was as if every time a crucial decision or moment came up something…clouded his thinking…_

_She glanced down at her cup, seeming unsure how to take his confession._

_He simply spoke from his heart, wholly and completely, no holding back, for the first time. "You know, ever since I woke up from that coma, my life hasn't made a _lick_ of sense," he stared off to the side, mentally reviewing all of his actions and feelings over the last several months, and then his gaze returned to her, his true North Star, "except for _you_."_

_Surprise flared in her emerald eyes._

_"What I'm feeling…" He grinned, letting the emotion momentarily overtake him, even if it would just make his heartbreak worse later, chuckling. "It's love…Mary Margaret." He allowed himself this possibly last time to say her sweet name._

_She shifted, fortifying her defenses; he wasn't surprised, though it wasn't a good sign. "David, why are you here?"_

_He looked down, unable to meet her oh-so-direct gaze. "Because Kathryn put a down payment on an apartment in Boston."_

_Understanding dawned on her expression, but what she thought she knew was wrong._

_"She's not gonna use it…"_

_A confused frown furrowed her brow._

_"…but I am," he finished._

_Her eyes snapped to his._

_He smiled, hoping against hope that she might, _might_, give him even the barest centimeter of _another_ chance, but knowing that he didn't deserve it. "Unless you give me a reason to stay."_

_There it was. Hanging between them. Was there _any_ chance for them?_

_"David," she whispered._

_Even as he hung on to hope, he could hear the sadness in her voice._

_"I _can't_."_

_He nodded, forcing the smile to remain on his face even as his heart completely shattered in his chest. She didn't deserve to have to see his pain after all the agony he'd inflicted on _her_. He nodded his acceptance, that crooked smile was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to fake. All the while, tears he barely held back burned his eyes._

_He was able to wait until she was in the car before he closed his eyes and a single tear escaped. At that he quickly left, not wanting her to see and feel guilty when he was the one who should bear the brunt of the pain. Maybe one day he'd be able to move on. Maybe one day the thought of her wouldn't rip his heart out anew. But he'd _never_ be able to forgive himself._

James awoke to the wrenching pain in his heart. The stabbing grief of loss and crushing self-loathing. Burying his head in his hands, he focused on breathing in time with the crash of the waves.

Gods, this was _hell_. His very own personal hell replaying almost every time he closed his eyes to sleep. He'd thought that the time in Lochdubh when Snow had ignored him had been hellish; his dreams–_nightmares_–were hundreds of times _worse_.

Collapsing back onto the pillows, he threw his arm over his face, the smell clinging to the sleeve of his shirt had his lips curling in a slow smile. Snow's scent lingered on his clothing from the satchel and soap she'd left for him; having that constant reminder of her around him, clinging to his very skin, was soothing.

After several deep breaths and once his heartbeat slowed, James rose from bed and moved to the washstand. He poured the remaining water from the pitcher into the basin and splashed it on his face, blinking the residual moisture away after he dried his face with a towel. A glance at the French doors revealed that sunrise was likely still a couple hours off. Too restless to stay in his room, James pulled on his boots and leather doublet and headed down to the beach.

The rush and crash of the waves along with the crunch of the sand under his bare feet–as usual, he left his boots at the steps–helped to clear James' mind, brought a little more objectivity so that he could analyze the dream and his emotions. He couldn't imagine ever giving up on them, their love, _ever_, not even if Snow had. He'd fight for her with _everything_ he had in him. He wouldn't just _leave_. James _despised_ the weakness he felt in the dreams that took place in that strange world. He _hated_ the innate knowledge that he'd irreparably hurt the woman he loved.

Hours passed, lost in his thoughts, James hardly noticed time going by and the sun rising. He looked up as he turned a corner around the palace and stopped dead in his tracks.

Eric was sitting on the beach kissing, _very_ passionately, a pretty redhead…with a long green tail rather than legs.

Apparently he made some sort of noise because the couple jerked apart, both whipping around to see him staring slack-jawed.

"James!" Eric choked out in shock.

The mermaid disappeared into the waves, scales glinting before she sank out of sight.

The fair-haired prince turned his incredulous gaze back to his cousin. "What the _hell_, Eric?!"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

Whiplash. Aurora had no idea where she'd ever heard the term, or what precisely it meant, but somehow she knew that it was apropos for how she felt. Phillip's moods were giving her whiplash. One moment things seemed to be going in a very positive direction, and then the next he'd suddenly close up, become remote, even angry, and seemingly for no reason.

"Aurora, dear," Queen Leah called from the head of the table over breakfast.

Reluctantly the princess allowed herself to be drawn from her thoughts. "Yes, Mother?"

"Eric and his family wrote. They've invited you to stay with them after the equinox in Everland."

A grin lit her face. "Wonderful! I can't wait to see them all!"

There was a clatter, drawing the entire table's attention.

Phillip had all but flung down his silverware. "I just remembered I have something I have to write to my father about." He tossed his napkin on the table, attention on King Stephan. "Please excuse me?"

The king casually gestured his permission and, like his wife, turned his attention back to his meal almost immediately.

Aurora didn't follow her parents' lead, eyes still locked on her betrothed's retreating form instead, reading the lines of tension in his shoulders. "Father," she wiped her mouth, "may I please be excused?"

Again the king absently gave his permission with a smile.

The princess rose from the table and strode purposefully after Phillip.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside_

James was dearly wishing for a large, stiff drink once his cousin had explained the entirety of the "situation." "Eric…" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Gods."

"Please don't tell me how impossible and stupid and dangerous this is," the dark-haired prince groaned. "I've gotten enough of that from 'Rora, Snow and the others."

His cousin snorted. "All of those are fairly apt in this situation," James muttered. "What are you two going to do? I mean," he gestured helplessly, "this _can't_ end well."

"I _know_!" Eric snapped, expression tight. "_We_ know. But…" He broke off with a frustrated sigh.

The sandy-haired man watched the other for several moments. "Hell…"

The Seaside prince snorted. "Yeah…hell…"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Snow was at Granny and Red's first thing in the morning, breaking her fast with them rather than at the castle. Immediately after she'd insisted on being put to work and had been handed a knife and a bushel of apples to peel and cut. Red settled next to her to debone the fish for the borders' lunch. The fish was fresh, not even a whiff of decomposition, but Snow's stomach instantly rebelled. She rushed from the kitchen, hand clamped over her mouth.

Red, concerned for her friend, dashed after her, flying outside in time to see the princess empty her stomach into the bushes, which she'd reached just as she got sick.

Snow clung to the side of the building as she tried to catch her breath after finally dry heaving a few times. The back of her free hand was pressed to her mouth, frame trembling from the exertion.

"Snow?"

Taking one more steadying breath, the elder dark-haired woman lifted her head, meeting her sister's concerned gaze.

"Are you all right? What's wrong?" Red laid an uncharacteristically tentative hand on Snow's arm.

Drawing in more fresh air and willing her traitorous stomach to settle, the princess smiled at the younger woman as brightly as she could manage. "I'm fine."

Red wasn't convinced. "Let's get you inside. I'm going to send for Doc." She tugged on her friend's arm.

Snow dug in her heels. "I'm fine, it's not necessary to bother Doc. The smell of the fish turned my stomach," she insisted. "Just a weak stomach today."

Hazel eyes narrowed to slits. "Snow, some days I think your stomach is made of cast iron."

She lifted a shoulder in a carefully careless shrug. "I'm having an off day."

Red's eyes became the size of saucers. "Snow," her voice was a fierce whisper, "when was the last time you had your monthly?"

Snow smoothed back a few dark curls that'd slipped free from the knot atop her head, struggling to shrug nonchalantly. "A couple of months ago."

"Oh goddess," Red groaned, scrubbing a hand over her face. "Snow, are you pregnant?" she finally asked bluntly.

The princess rubbed her hands over her stomach in a soothing and protective gesture, gazing down at it. "I haven't confirmed it, but I feel there isn't much doubt about it."

Her best friend sighed in exasperation. "How long have you suspected?"

She shrugged. "A few days." Her gaze finally lifted to her friend's. "I know it sounds…silly, but…I've been torn over seeing Doc. I want James to be the first to know, but I don't want to tell him if it isn't true…"

Red rolled her eyes, firmly taking hold of Snow's arm. "Well, I'm making the decision for you. You're going to see Doc…_now_."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

Aurora strode after Phillip, not willing to let him get away with his behavior at the table, and _more_ than ready to confront him about his mercurial moods. "When I saw him in Everland, James said not to judge you solely by your actions. He implied that something 'tragic,' as he put it, happened to you," she yelled at his back.

He stopped dead in his tracks and then spun on his heel, covering the distance between them in half the time it originally took to cross it. Her betrothed leaned down, right into her face, though she wasn't cowed by him in the least, fury lancing his tone as he spoke. "James has a big mouth and shouldn't poke his nose where it doesn't belong."

The blonde glared up at him. "He is a good friend–one, by the way, that I _still_ don't understand what you've done to deserve–and was trying to convince me to give you a chance. He wanted us to have the opportunity to actually have at _least_ an amicable marriage, hell maybe even a _good _one, since neither of us seems to be able to find a good excuse _not_ to get married!"

The muscles in his jaw visibly jumped, showing how tightly he was gritting his teeth. "It isn't your business."

Aurora set her mouth stubbornly. "I'm your betrothed, likely your future _wife_…I should think that _makes_ it my business."

His lips pressed into a thin line, glaring at her for a few moments longer before he turned on his heel.

"Why don't you just do us both a favor and find some other woman?" she demanded.

Phillip spun back around. "I already tried that!"

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

His expression had immediately shuttered as soon as the words left his mouth, obviously regretting it. His jaw worked again. "Why don't _you_ do us both the favor and marry _Eric_?" His tone was mocking as he said the other prince's name.

Blue eyes narrowed into icy slits. "Eric is my _brother_." Shock lit his face. "Even if he _wasn't_ in love with another woman I wouldn't marry him. And we weren't talking about _me_."

Emotions flickered across his face faster than a kaleidoscope before settling into an unreadable blankness. "Well, we're not talking about me either." Phillip spun on his heel and swept from the room.

Aurora watched her betrothed stalk off, mouth set in a grim line, unable to help thinking that this was the end of any hope for them.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Red paced in the hallway outside of the room she and Granny had lent Snow and Doc for the examination. The older woman hadn't been surprised when her two granddaughters asked for the room and reluctantly explained the need for it. She'd simply handed Snow the key and told Red to fetch the physician. Doc came with little questioning, when told what the princess needed he'd been _very_ shocked, stammering over his words, but soon recovered and agreed.

If felt like forever to Red. Granny was just sitting in a chair she'd brought into the hall for the wait, calmly knitting with cream-colored yarn.

Finally the door opened, and the two women's attention was instantly riveted.

Doc, carrying his medical bag, nodded for them to go inside. "She's ready to see you."

Red stepped forward. "Is she…?"

He just gestured for them to go inside, not answering.

Grandmother and granddaughter shared a glance before going into the room.

Snow stood before the full-length mirror, watching her hand run gently over her abdomen.

"You're pregnant."

The white-clad princess turned at her sister's statement. "Yes." A smile curled her lips, she knew that some would be _far_ from pleased by this, but she couldn't be anything other than ecstatically happy. Snow wished Charming was there right that moment, that he was the one she was sharing this news with. But telling the two women she considered family was perhaps the next best thing. She looked back down at her still flat stomach, palms gently caressing where her baby was, hers and Charming's. "We're going to have a child."

Red wanted to feel more disapproving, but was having a _very_ difficult time doing so, seeing her best friend so overjoyed, and honestly the news of a baby, regardless of how–or more appropriately _when_–it was conceived, was always reason to rejoice. A sentiment her grandmother obviously shared.

Granny's eyes sparkled with happiness. "Well, it might not be the ideal way to have this come about, but this is most _definitely_ wonderful news!"

The youngest woman wondered if her grandmother was thinking the same thing she was, about the tall, golden-haired woman who had all of the stubbornness of _both_ her parents. Red had been wondering what it would be like to have Emma be the niece she was _meant_ to be…maybe now she'd find out.

Snow grinned up at them with unrestrained joy, and then she looked down at her hands still cradling her abdomen, and spoke more quietly, attention on her unborn child, "Hello, little girl."

The innkeeper's granddaughter frowned in confusion. "You can't _possibly_ know that it's a girl." Snow had shown no signs that she remembered, how could she know she'd have a daughter?

The princess looked up, a knowing smile on her lips.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Seaside_

After talking with Eric, James had lost his appetite and instead of going to breakfast continued to walk the beach. Gods, what was going to happen to Eric? If Triton found out about him and Ariel…

"Trying to burn that sand into glass?"

His head snapped up at the sardonic question.

Thomas and Liam were walking toward him, his general smirking. "You were glaring at it so fiercely."

The elder prince rolled his eyes. "How can I help you?"

His brother and general glanced at each other, debating whether or not to pursue their inquiries, but apparently decided against asking what was wrong.

"We need to discuss our travel plans." Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. "With Mother here we can't exactly just stay in Everland for however many days you and Snow want to spend together."

"I've been thinking about that," James assured him. "You two head back to Riverdon with Mother, you can go by way of Everland if you wish. I will warn you, little brother, she managed to spend an afternoon with Snow while she was there last, even with the mourning period. I wouldn't be surprised if she manages to ferret out your relationship with Ella and has a sit-down with her as well."

The younger prince paled.

"And what will _you_ be doing in the meanwhile?" Liam questioned, eyeing his liege.

"I'd planned to visit Glenbriar after seeing Snow, on my way to talk with Midas. I wrote to King Stephan and Queen Leah requesting to have the visit moved up. I'm going to Glenbriar, it's not even half a day's journey from here so I will be safe travelling on my own, though Eric said he might join me when I mentioned it. Aurora is like a sister to him apparently."

"Good!" the general said with mocking cheerfulness. "Then I'll join you after I see your mother, Thomas and Belle safely to Riverdon."

James grimaced, obviously wanting to argue but knowing all too well how futile it would be. "Fine," he sighed resignedly. "From there, I'll go to meet Snow, which _you_," he glared pointedly at Liam, "will _not_ be attending."

He smirked. "Not really my style. I'll head to Everbrooke."

The elder prince nodded. "After our stay there we'll be going to Midas'…and the truly difficult part."

Thomas, having regained his color once again, grimaced. "I _really_ don't envy you that."

"Would anybody?" James pointed out wryly.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

Snow noticed over the following days that quiet changes were unobtrusively made around the castle in relation to her. Her wine was discreetly replaced with grape juice, certain foods were served less, Lucy closed her bed curtains every night so that the dawn wouldn't wake her and she slept later… So many small but important changes, done without her father or stepmother realizing it. She guessed that most of the key members of the staff knew at this point, but were helping her hide it until she was ready to tell her father and Regina. She had _no_ intention of doing so until after she'd first told Charming and they were safely engaged–a ring on her finger would go a long way to easing what ire her father would feel.

Lying in bed, James' latest letter in one hand, the fingers of her other traced patterns over her flat stomach. In the letter he told her of his plans for when he'd be able to meet her, when his mother, brother and Liam would be stopping through–she'd pass this information on to Red and Ella if they didn't already know–and his promise to break with Midas right after their time together.

She pressed her palm over her baby. "Just a few days, sweetheart. Then we'll get to tell your daddy." Snow grinned. "He's going to be so excited when I tell him about you! Knowing him he'll be making plans for all the things you're going to do together, and all of the things he's going to teach you." A soft laugh escaped her. "He'll probably have a sword made for you before you're even born!" She whispered conspiratorially to her daughter, "But I'm going to make sure you have a bow in your hands just as quickly, if not sooner."

Curling on her side, Snow continued to rub her belly, gaze soft. "I love you _so_ _much_, my sweet girl. And I will tell you every day. You will _never_ doubt that you're loved by your father and I. I promise."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

"What is _wrong_ with him?"

Flora quietly weathered the storm of her goddaughter's temper, pouring the water into the teapot.

Aurora stalked pack and forth across the kindly fairy's sitting room. "He gets all jealous over Eric–which makes _no_ sense, since I could _never _see Eric that way! But then he won't tell me _what_ James was talking about–and I _know_ that whatever it is it's _really _bothering him." She spun on heel to face Flora. "'I already tried that!' What does that even _mean_?!" Crossing her arms, the princess resumed her pacing. "The _gall_ of the man to imply that I'm not as invested in making this work!"

"Aurora, dear," the elder woman calmly interjected, bringing the princess to an immediate stop. "You're making me dizzy with your pacing. Please, sit down."

Automatically Aurora did as she was told, she might not be a little girl anymore but she still respected and obeyed her parents and godmothers.

Flora delicately poured them each a cup. "Drink, Aurora. It's mint, your favorite."

The princess blushed, taking a sip of the tea that always seemed to help calm her, then setting down her cup again she took a deep breath. "What am I going to do, Flora?" Aurora rubbed her forehead. "I-I really think…that Phillip and I can…make our relationship work, but…" She gritted her teeth. "If he keeps pushing me away, walling me out, it _never_ will."

Folding her hands, the fairy leaned forward. "Do you _want_ that? Do you _want_ to make it work between you? And I don't mean for the sake of the kingdom or because of your parents."

Aurora thoughtfully watched her finger as it traced the rim of her cup. "I do," she finally decided. "I– Somehow I…I _know_ that we could be _good_ together. Happy. The times when things are going well between us...I'm–I'm actually happy, and he seems so happy. We laugh and teasingly needle each other."

"Then my advice is, don't give up. If this marriage is something you _truly_ want, _fight_ for it." Flora covered one of her goddaughter's hands with her own. "Who knows, perhaps Prince James can help when he arrives tomorrow?"

The young woman nodded slowly, remembering his promise; maybe _he_ could shed some light on why things seemed to be going nowhere.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_On the road between Seaside and Glenbriar_

Liam, Ruth and Belle left right after breakfast and James saw them off, watching until their carriage disappeared.

After lunch James and Eric headed out for Glenbriar, it was a short ride and they would be there well before dinnertime. For the first hour of their journey they rode in a loaded silence, the kiss James had walked in on thick in the air between them.

Finally, unable to take the suspense anymore, Eric broke it. "So you're not going to tell anyone about Ariel and I?"

James gave a weary sigh. "Honestly Eric, I'd have no idea _what_ to say." His grip tightened on Cain's reins. "This is a nightmare situation of epic proportions. I have _no_ interest in getting involved really. Hell, I'd prefer to forget what I saw all together if that were possible." He swiped a hand across his eyes as if he could wipe the memory away.

"I _know_ all of the reasons that it's impossible and the _worst _idea imaginable…but I _love_ her."

The sandy-haired prince clenched his jaw. Being in love in a complicated situation was certainly something he could relate to…though Eric and Ariel's put the drama of his own love life to shame.

"You're of the Seaborn line, James, do you know of _any_ way we can make this work?" Eric begged.

"Eric…" The elder prince shook his head. "There's just… I've known humans and merpeople to be attracted, smitten even, but being in _love_…there's no precedent for that. I'm sorry."

Eric blew out a weary breath. "I guess we'll just…have to hope and try to find a way."

"And if I can, I _will_ help you," James swore.

The younger prince gave him a wry, but grateful smile.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

As Snow sat at Ella's table helping peel potatoes for the dwarfs' dinner, the blonde set a cup in front of her friend.

"Tea." Ella took a seat across from her, a cup beside her as well, and went back to the potatoes.

The princess cocked an eyebrow, setting her knife aside and, cupping the tea between her palms and breathed the aroma in deeply, then cast a level look at the other woman. "Chamomile?"

"It's very soothing," her friend commented off-handedly, keeping her gaze focused on her work.

"Ella," she folded her hands and rested them on the table, "you _hate_ chamomile."

Blue eyes rose to meet green, a grin pulling at the blonde's lips. "It's very good for upset stomachs as well."

Snow pressed her lips together, trying to contain a smile. "Red told you, didn't she?"

Ella raised one eyebrow, a broad grin on her face. "That she and I are going to be aunties sooner rather than later?"

The blonde reached across the table, covering her friend's hands with her own, both laughing helplessly with joy.

This was the scene that Thomas walked in on.

"Thomas!" Ella cried out, face alight. She shot to her feet, throwing herself into his arms, his own joyful mirth ringing as he wrapped her in a tight embrace.

He grinned down at her before reluctantly tearing his gaze away to look apologetically at the princess. "I'm sorry, Snow, I hadn't realized you were here."

She chuckled, shaking her head as she rose from the table, basket of potatoes propped on one hip and her cup of tea in her other hand. "It's perfectly fine, your family and I seem to have issues with keeping the mourning." Snow grinned at the still-embracing couple as she passed them. "I'm going over to the dwarfs'. Good to see you again, Thomas."

The couple watched her retreat before turning back to each other.

"I thought we were meeting later, for dinner?" Ella inquired.

"Well," Thomas watched his hand skim down her arms to lace their fingers together, "I couldn't wait any longer to see you and…" he took a deep breath, bringing his gaze to hers, "I want you to come and meet my mother." The words came out in a rush; his eyes gleamed with eager anticipation.

Ella smiled sweetly. "Well, I'm sure she wants to meet all of your friends–"

"No, Ella," he countered easily, gaze locked with hers. "I don't want you to meet her as my friend. I want you to meet her as the woman I _love_, the woman I'm going to marry."

Her breath caught. "Thomas…are-are you sure? I-I mean…what if she doesn't like me? I'm a commoner; she probably wouldn't _want_ you to marry me–"

He stopped her ramble with a kiss, cupping her cheek as he pulled away. "She's going to _love_ you."

"How do you _know_?" Ella bit her lip.

A wide grin spread across his face. "Because I do." He began drawing her toward the door by the hands. "_And_ she's common born herself."

Her eyes became wide as saucers. "She is?"

"Yes." Thomas pressed her palms to his chest. "So, will you meet her?"

Curling her hands into the fabric of his cloak, Ella took a deep breath. "Yes. I would be honored to meet your mother."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

James noticed as he greeted Phillip that his friend was watching Aurora hugging Eric, his jaw set and frustration in his gaze. The fair-haired prince grabbed his friend by the arm and all but dragged him off through the castle. "You haven't _told_ her," the non-question was rapped out in a fiercely annoyed tone.

"And if I _haven't_?" Phillip snapped back.

"Damn it, Phillip!" He pulled them to a stop and spun on his friend. "Are you _trying_ to sabotage your betrothal?!"

"What business is it of _yours_, James?" the dark-haired prince snarled back as he slammed the door of the small sitting room behind him.

James clenched his teeth in frustration. "Maybe not directly, but I've only ever wanted your happiness. Aside from Thomas, you are one of my two best friends in this world; I want to see you truly happy." He swept his arms in a wide gesture. "And there's _never_ going to be a chance of that if you don't let go of your past! If you don't let Aurora in enough to _understand_! She _deserves _to know!"

Phillip's expression was flat, stubborn. "I made that mistake once before."

"Gods and goddesses preserve us!" James cast his eyes skyward, pleading for patience. "Aurora _isn't _Helen, Phillip!"

"Who's Helen?"

Both princes' heads whipped around at the voice from the door.

Aurora stood in the now open doorway, arms crossed over her chest and gaze guarded but with hints of desperate hope flickering in it.

"Excuse me." James shot his friend a meaningful glance before heading to the door. Aurora stepped into the room so that he could pass, but he stopped just at the threshold and looked back at the other prince. "Just to let you know, I promised her that if you don't tell her…I _will_."

Fury flashed into his eyes.

The Seaborn heir shrugged with a studied carelessness. "Just something to think about." He shut the door behind himself.

Aurora turned to face Phillip. "Who's Helen?"

His hands clenched convulsively as he stalked over to the window. "A woman I loved. A woman I thought loved me." He locked his jaw. "But it was a lie. She broke my heart."

The blonde princess could read all the pain raging through him despite his understated words. "I'm sorry. When was this?"

"It doesn't matter," he said tightly.

She compressed her lips in a razor thin line. "_Why_?"

Phillip frowned in confusion as he turned to face her. "Why what?"

Frustration edging toward anger flashed in her blue eyes. "Why do you brush me off? Why do you refuse to tell me _really_ how you feel, and just play it off? Why won't you trust me even an _inch_? Why won't you give this–_us_–even a _sliver_ of hope of working out?" She rapid fired the questions, not giving him a chance to answer. "And if you truly _don't _want to try to make our betrothal work, why don't you just have the guts to _say_ so, and at least have the decency to stop _leading me on_?!" The last words were spat out just before Aurora spun on her heel and stormed out the door.

At a complete loss, Phillip could do nothing but watch the blonde–the first person to get under his skin in longer than he'd care to admit–stalk away. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest and the voice at the back of his mind screaming at him to go after her.

"And you like to say that _I'm_ the idiot." James appeared in the doorway with an obscenely annoyed look on his face. "Gods, Phillip you're an _idiot_. All you have to do is _talk_ to her!"

The dark-haired prince's mouth twisted in a sneer. "And what would you know of it? Of difficulties in love?! Over twenty years later and you're _still _with your _first_ love!" He shoved James out of the way, escaping the room. "What do _you_ know of _any_ of it?!"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Everland_

As they made their way to the Inn, for the first time Ella truly _saw_ what Thomas was wearing; it brought a bright smile to her face. "That's the cloak I made for you." She reached out, running her fingers along the edge of the fabric.

Thomas grinned, catching her hand and bringing it up to his lip. "It's my favorite."

She tried to give him a chastising look, but the smile she couldn't wipe off her face spoiled it. "I only just gave it to you."

The prince tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "You made it for me, and gave me this clasp," he touched the item with his free hand, "these make it my favorite. And I _love_ it."

Ella pressed her pink cheek against his shoulder. "What did I do to deserve you?" she asked in the softest of voices.

He kissed the top of her head. "I ask myself the same thing every day," he murmured into her hair.

It was only minutes later that Granny and Red's home and work came into sight; Ella's heart was pounding and her palm trembled against Thomas' arm.

He covered her hand with his, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "It's going to be fine. Mother will _love_ you."

It took several, deep, bracing breaths before Ella was able to let Thomas led her inside.

Ruth was chatting with Granny over a cup of tea in the kitchen. From the moment they were properly introduced when Ruth passed through on the way to Seaside, the pair had hit it off famously. The two women looked over as the couple came through the door, the queen's sharp eyes instantly took in her son's hand entwined with the pretty blonde's beside him; her lips curved into a delighted smile.

Thomas led the nervous young woman to stand with him before Ruth. "Mother," his gaze went to his beloved, "this is Ella de Barbarrac. Ella, my mother, Queen Ruth of Seaborn."

Before the blonde could drop into a courtesy and render the proper greeting, the queen stood, capturing the young woman's free hand with a warm grin. "I'm very happy to meet you, Ella." Twinkling chestnut eyes glanced at her son before returning to Ella. "I'm so glad my son found you."

The nerves fluttering in her stomach settled with Ruth's warm welcome, the young woman gripped her hand back tightly. "So am I."

Ruth drew Ella over to sit beside her at the table, directing Thomas across it from her. "Please, tell me everything about yourself," she requested while Granny quietly set two more cups on the table and slipped unobtrusively out, letting her newest adopted granddaughter get to know her future mother-in-law.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Glenbriar_

James found Aurora pacing the terrace, frustration vibrating through every inch of her frame, upon hearing his footsteps she spun on him.

"Has he always been this infuriating? Don't answer that!" She held up a hand to forestall any response and resumed pacing, violet skirts billowing around her legs.

A single eyebrow rose on James' forehead as he entwined his hands behind his back, restraining his amusement. "Phillip has...trust issues."

The princess shot him a droll look.

"He was never of a trusting nature, but after her... Well, let's just say that his father aside, the only ones he really trusts can be counted on one hand..._literally_."

With that last word she abruptly stopped, staring at James. "You know, he was jealous of Eric."

He shrugged. "Not surprising."

"It's _Eric_!" the princess countered, exasperation saturating her tone.

"You know, his being jealous at all should tell you something," he commented off-handedly.

"What's _that_?" she scoffed.

"That he cares enough to _be _jealous."

_That _stopped her dead in her tracks.

The prince leaned casually back against the railing. "If he didn't truly care about you he wouldn't care about any other men in your life."

Crystalline blue eyes stared at him for several long heartbeats.

"What did she _do_ to him?" Her voice was barely above a whisper but the plea was loud and clear.

James set his mouth in a grim line. "Helen is a part of Phillip's past that _none _of us like to revisit. She is a member of the Agrabahan court, the last three years–since _it _happened–Jasmine has conveniently 'forgotten' to invite her to most social functions and _never _to any that Phillip attends." He cast a wryly amused look at Aurora. "I think she was actually looking for a reason to keep her away anyway."

Aurora perched gracefully beside him on the rail, raptly attentive.

"Phillip met Helen at a gala in Agrabah–I can't remember which one, I think I blocked it out. She was a very beautiful woman and immediately caught his eye. Her wit and charm lured him in and captured him." He took a deep breath, meeting Aurora's gaze directly. "I won't lie to you or sugarcoat it, they became lovers, and Phillip fell in love with her."

James paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Phillip doesn't do things by halves, when he loves it's complete and unconditional and head-long." His gaze shifted away, focusing on nothing. "They were together for over a year, he proposed and she said yes." His jaw clenched. "He was a week away from breaking with your parents when he returned unexpectedly early from a visit with me to find her in bed with another man."

Aurora sucked in a breath.

He nodded, still not looking at her. "He found out that it wasn't an isolated incident either, that she'd taken _many _men into her bed when he was away. From of those very men he found out how she spoke of him in his absence... How disdainful she was. How she reveled in his 'foolishness,' as she called it." Finally his gaze turned to hers. "He was given a rude awakening to how much of a lie her declarations of love were. She'd only wanted him for his wealth and power and position. Since then he's pretty much retreated entirely behind his walls of sarcasm and cynicism."

The princess stared unseeingly into the distance.

James let the silence reign for a while, letting her absorb what he'd told her.

"How can I get past that?" she finally asked, blue eyes turning to meet his own. "How can I reach him through all of that bitterness and pain?"

Pleased to hear that she wasn't giving up, just discouraged, the prince impulsively leaned over and in a brotherly gesture kissed her forehead. "I have a feeling that if anyone can do it, _you _can."

Aurora closed her eyes, absorbing the gesture and words of faith, praying that she was truly equal to the task ahead of her.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James let out a weary sigh as he entered his room, the emotional wild ride of helping deal with his cousin's love life as well as his best friend's catching up to him.

A cheerful chirp caught his attention. A tiny blue bird was hopping atop his bed, trying to draw his attention to a letter resting on the quilt. Grin spreading across his face, James approached Snow's letter, knowing that it was just what he needed.

The bird fluttered its wings, heading off through the window once the prince had picked up the letter. James sat down on his bed, back against the headboard. His fingers traced the unicorn that danced along the wax before breaking the seal and unfolding the paper.

_My Charming,_

_I'm sorry you had to find out about Eric and Ariel the way you did, but thank you for understanding that I couldn't break the confidence. I have no idea how to deal with or remedy the situation anymore than I did nearly six months ago when Aurora and Eric told Red, Gaspard and I. I think that all we can do–at least for now–is be there for him._

He sighed, knowing she was right, but desperately wishing that there was something he could do.

_How are Aurora and Phillip doing? Last I heard from her a few days ago was that she's torn between liking him and utter frustration with him. From what little she told me I actually think he could be good for her. If he could stop driving her crazy long enough for her to realize it._

James chuckled, agreeing with her assessment and praying that his life-long friend and his betrothed would be able to work everything out between them.

_The plan you suggested for seeing each other works for me, beyond the fact that I would prefer it if you were already_ here_ or I was_ there_. I can't wait to see you, my charming love. I have a tiny surprise for you when I do. You'll _like _it. We keep doing things _so_ out of order._

This threw James for a loop. What on _Earth _did his Snow mean?

_I love you, Charming. I'm counting the days and hours until I see you again. Pass on my love and best wishes to Aurora. And tell Phillip I look forward to meeting him again as adults. Also, tell him that if he breaks Aurora's heart he will have several swords, knives and bows aiming for him._

_All of my heart and soul,_

_Your Snow_

James sat back against the headboard. Yes, his love's words were _exactly _what he'd needed. But what in the names of all the gods and goddesses did she mean about a "tiny surprise" and referencing their occasional inside joke about doing things "out of order?"

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Phillip's belongings were packed and in his carriage, the king, queen and princess were likely already waiting to bid him farewell at the main entrance. The prince strode through the halls, after all of the emotional upheaval of this visit he was more than ready to return home where things were certainly less confusing. And where perhaps he could gain some distance from the beautiful princess who'd gotten past his façade.

A deceptively small hand grabbed his arm and yanked him into an alcove off of the main hall.

"What the–" He spun to find the determined expression of his betrothed. "Aurora?!" He was so shocked that when she shoved him against the wall and crashed her lips to his he couldn't respond immediately.

Aurora pulled away before he _could_ respond, hands tightly grasping the front of his dark leather doublet, eyes locked on his. "I'm going to fight for this. For us." Using her grip, she pushed herself back. "So you'd better get that _Helen_ out of your head and be ready." Head chin high, she turned on her heel and left him to join her parents on the front steps.

It was several moments before Phillip's senses fully returned to him, though he continued to gaze after where his betrothed had disappeared. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Gods, what had just happened? After several more deep breaths he managed to force himself away from the wall that'd been supporting him and to head to the entrance. He'd been planning on riding in the carriage, but now…maybe a ride was in order.

Above him, at the railing for the second floor James smirked.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

So, thoughts? O.O Next chapter we're going to see more Snowing! :-D Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you guys think!


	24. Chapter 21: Just a Few Days

My dearies, darlings, beloved readers, thank you for baring with me all of these months. It's been a long haul for me, very busy and emotional. I'm sorry that it took so long, I was in England for over a month over the holidays, my once-a-year visit with my family. Then my grandmother's health began to decline and she passed in February, as some of you know, so I wasn't really in much of a mood to write. And last month I was away on intensive training for work. I hope that you've all been well, I've appreciated your encouragement more than I can EVER express, and your condolences when my grandma passed. I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than others, especially considering the LONG hiatus, but I hope that you still enjoy it! :-D

This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother: I love you, Grandma, and I will miss you SO much, thank you for all you taught me and gave me; every time I watch Murder, She Wrote, you'll be sitting the beside me. Thank you, Lord, for the 29 years, 1 month, 1 week and 2 days I got to have with her, and for being there with her when she passed.

I can NEVER thank my, dartie, Sassy1988, for all of the "talks", fangirling, laughter, betaing, and in the hard moments comforting. Thank you for being there, dartie!

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

**Chapter 21: Just a Few Days**

_Everland_

From her position at the bay window of her room, Regina watched her stepdaughter tighten her horse's girth a final time before mounting. The innkeeper's granddaughter, Reddell Lucas, was standing unenthusiastically beside a bay gelding, and the blond common girl from Riverdon, Ella de something, already sat atop an Appaloosa mare. In any other kingdom Snow would be surrounded by guards and ladies-in-waiting, only in Everland could a crowned princess get away with riding off with only two common born women. Granted, one of those women was a werewolf and better protection than probably a dozen knights while the princess herself was skilled with weapons, but both of these facts just further demonstrated how differently things were done here.

No one had been surprised when Snow had announced a week ago that she was going to stay at the family hunting cottage for a few days, being in mourning their usual workload had been dramatically reduced–though Regina was loath to think of the wave they'd be handling once the period ended–and with visitors mostly banned they had little to occupy their days. The princess had obviously been trying to keep busy but she was restless, she wasn't used to being idle and didn't enjoy it. Regina was perfectly willing to admit that things had been better between them of late–more so than they'd ever been–but she was still relieved when Snow had asked her–another surprising change–if it would be alright if she got away for a while. The queen had granted her blessing, fighting to not show how happy she was, her stepdaughter had been slowly driving her mad with her nervous energy, which had shot up exponentially in the last couple of weeks, the young woman just brimming with it and excitement.

The three women urged their horses off, Snow sending hers into a gallop almost immediately, leaving the other two to catch up.

Turning from the window, the queen shook her head. People in love truly were tiresome.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

There was a small town a few miles from the hunting cottage, that was where Red, Ella and, when he arrived later that day, Liam were going to stay. Snow had recommended it to James for his friend shortly after they agreed to meet. The people were discreet and Red had a few relations there who were almost as loyal to Snow as the two members of the Everbrooke branch of the Lucas Pack were.

Snow was glad that she'd sent word ahead of her decision to stay at the cottage, several of the townsfolk had been hired to prepare for her arrival, to her specifications, no questions asked. So the amount of provisions, more suited to two people than one, was supplied without comment.

The princess was pleased with the large pile of wood, more than sufficient for the few days they'd be there–she'd have to tell those who'd prepared the house to take the excess as part of a bonus after she and James left. She removed Aravis's tack, giving the golden mare the good, thorough rub-down that she richly deserved. The dark-haired woman spoke softly and encouragingly to her beloved horse, lavishing the attention that Snow had unintentionally been neglecting since Henry's death.

Once Aravis was cared for and happily grazing in the corral, Snow shouldered her bags and headed into the cottage. Fresh linens covered the bed in the master bedroom, which had been aired out after so long in disuse–while Regina loved nothing more than riding, she absolutely disdained anything remotely connected to the hunt. Snow felt that this place, along with the house in Lochdubh Henry had left to her and James, would be a perfect retreat for her family.

Snow placed the few articles of clothing she'd brought in her saddlebags into the armoire, making sure to leave Charming plenty of room for his belongings. One pale hand stroked the doors once she'd closed them, then skimmed her fingertips over the bed frame. The texture of the old, roughhewn furniture harkening back to long ago childhood memories. She'd only been in this room a handful of times, but all of the furniture in the cottage was of the same design, commissioned from a local woodworker by Snow's great grandfather when the cottage had been built. The furniture wasn't anywhere near as fine as that in the castle, and not even as elegant as that in Henry's–she had a feeling she'd always think of it as that, his gift to them–house, but it was as solid as the mountains of Everland, and beautiful in its own way.

Snow's lips curved into a smile. James would love it. Her palm pressed against her belly; it was the perfect place to tell him about their child.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James parted with Liam midway between the cottage and the village, the prince struggling not to laugh at his friend. The general was so obviously torn between deep reluctance to let his prince out of his sight unprotected, and overwhelming eagerness to see Red. Carefully, James followed Snow's directions, having no desire to get lost in a land he was unfamiliar with and delay his reunion with his beloved.

The cottage was understated. Too grand to be the home of a peasant but certainly not what one would expect from a royal family. He could see Aravis grazing in a corral attached to the small–by royalty standards–stables, smoke curled from the chimney along with the scent of cooking rabbit.

James tied Cain to a hitching post in front of the house, promising his steed a proper rubdown and food shortly... He just _had _to see Snow now.

Opening the front door revealed the lower floor to be mostly one common space, the chairs gathered around the fireplace where rabbit stew was cooking led to the actual kitchen where Snow looked up from slicing pears. Her face lit up like the sun, she dropped the knife and ran to him.

"Charming," she gasped joyfully as he caught her in his arms and spun her around.

"Missed me?" James asked teasingly.

Without releasing him in the slightest, she lifted her head, mirth sparkling in her eyes. "Not in the slightest."

He chuckled, kissing her soundly and thoroughly enjoying her response. _This _was his Snow, his sassy, sarcastic Snow, and he couldn't _begin_ to say how grateful he was to see her healing as she was.

After a long moment of just holding each other tight he finally lowered her to the ground. Her eyes went to the door and then turned to his, gaze chiding. "You just left poor Cain out there like that?"

He shrugged, unable to manage a truly repentant expression. "I _might_ have been a little excited to see a certain princess."

She laughed, pecking James lightly on the mouth before pushing him in the direction of his horse. "Go take care of that poor creature. Dinner will be ready soon."

With a mock pout and stealing on last kiss, James hurried out to attend his faithful steed.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

There was something different about Snow. James couldn't put his finger on it but it was there, undefinable. One might chalk it up to Henry's death and the healing process she was going through, but he somehow knew that it was _more_ than that. He'd always associated warmth with Snow, but it was never a truer sentiment than now. Tonight she practically glowed. All through dinner he watched her, catching the subtle changes but unable to understand what they meant. Once they finished eating, Snow teasingly informed him that since she cooked, he cleaned. James pretended to grumble, but willingly washed the dishes, watching her out of the corner of his eye, while she picked up a sewing project. The smile on her lips hadn't left since he walked through the door, and it stayed, even as she pricked her finger, chuckling and shaking her head at her own clumsiness.

Once the last pot had been set aside James went to Snow's side; she looked up, grinning. "Do you feel like a walk?" she asked. "There's a waterfall I would love to show you." His princess set the project aside, rising from the chair. "It's lovely all year round, especially at night, but we'll have to come back in the winter, the waterfall freezes and it's the most remarkable sight."

"Sounds amazing." He was still studying her, trying to understand what was different, to divine the secret he could see sparkling behind those emerald eyes.

What was she keeping from him?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow knew James could tell something was up, that she was hiding something, though thankfully he apparently was able to tell it was a good thing, otherwise he'd have been insisting to know what it was _long_ before now.

The night was lovely, a full moon–Red was probably having a good time running with the younger members of her family's pack; she and Granny preferred to live in Everbrooke, but Snow knew they occasionally missed others of their kind. The air had grown crisper with every passing day, fall fully descending, the leaves all aflame with oranges, reds and yellows. One of the only flowers still in bloom were the _Lacrimae_, forming glowing patches in the grass, though with the equinox next week they too would soon fade.

They reached the waterfall and pond, moon and starlight made the cascading water shimmer like thousands of diamonds.

"You're right," James murmured, momentarily transfixed, "it's lovely at night. However," he turned his gaze to her, eyes glowing with love, "not as much as you."

Snow decided to blame the pricking of tears on the pregnancy; she gripped his doublet and pulled him in for a kiss. "Charmer."

He caressed her cheek, grinning back. "_You're_ the one who chose the nickname," he countered teasingly.

Running a fingertip over the scar on his chin, a soft smirk quirked Snow's lips. "And _you_ more than live up to it."

James tilted his head enough to kiss her finger.

She bit her lip. "I have something to tell you." Her hands tangled with the one of his.

Her prince canted his head, curiosity and amusement coloring his expression. "What is it?"

Biting her lip again, she looked down at their joined hands. "You know how we've joked about how we've done things out of order in our relationship?"

One of his eyebrows rose, not really sure where she was going with this. "Yes?"

Still nervously gnawing on her lower lip and keeping her eyes on their hands, she pressed his palm to her abdomen, and with a deep breath finally lifted her gaze to his, seeing the dawning understanding in his blue eyes. "Say hello to your child," she whispered.

For a heartbeat he was frozen with shock before he managed to say, "A baby?"

Snow nodded wordlessly, the joyful tears shimmering in her eyes, choking her voice.

His other hand slid down and joined the first gripping her waist as intense joy lit his features. "You're pregnant?"

A helpless giggle escaped her as she nodded again. "Yes."

With a shout of joyful laughter, James swept her up into his arms, spinning them around. When he set her back down he kissed her over and over, laughter still spilling from between their lips. He dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to her belly, right over their child. "Hello, little one," he whispered. "Your daddy loves you _very _much."

Tears were streaming down Snow's smiling face as she watched her husband-to-be talk to their daughter for the first time. Her hands ran lovingly through his hair and he lifted his head, eyes gazing up at hers, matching grins on their faces. She cupped his face, drinking in the joy there, burning the details into her memory so she could always remember how happy he was the moment he learned about their first child.

His thumbs caressed her waist, adoration shining in his gaze. "I love you both more than anything in the world."

Heart squeezing at his words, her fingers drifted down to trace the scar on his chin. "We love you too, Charming. Truly and eternally."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James had his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her pressed to his side the whole way back to the cabin. Hovering. Snow resisted the urge to roll her eyes; well, she knew what she'd be getting herself into the moment she told him. When he tried to guide her to a chair by the fire she finally had enough and swatted his hands away.

"I'm pregnant, Charming, not an invalid."

The look in her eyes warned him not to push it any further, and he took a step back and let her take care of her own cloak.

He'd just hung his own on a peg by the door when the sewing his love had been working on earlier caught his eye. Snow turned from draping her black velvet cloak over a chair to see him turning the white fabric over in his hands. Clasping her hands behind her back, she bit her lip as she moved over to his side. "It's a Naming gown."

Blue eyes met hers.

"A tradition in Everland." She wrung her hands anxiously. "Presenting the baby to have their name officially recorded and singing the Lullaby to them for the first time." Snow knew he still wasn't enthusiastic about the Lullaby, but hoped he'd eventually come around and agree. The mother-to-be took an anxious step forward. "What do you do in Seaborn?" She didn't want him to think she'd leave his kingdom's traditions out.

A smile lifted his lips. "We bring the infant down to the beach and they're blessed as a child of the sea with salt water and the traditional blessing."

"Will we need another gown for that?" She caught herself reaching for where his ring used to hang around her neck, and instead twisted her fingers back and forth. Gods, not only would she need him to see that she was willing to adopt his ways, but also his family and all of his people. What else would be needed? What if she failed? What if she did something wrong and offended them from the very beginning?

The circling train of worries in her mind was derailed when James captured her hands, emerald eyes snapping up to blue.

"This will be perfect," he assured her.

Grateful tears filled her eyes, a smile curving her mouth. Snow cupped the back of his neck and brought his head down to press her lips to his.

James gripped her waist, drawing her closer, eagerly returning her kiss, then he remembered and dragged his mouth from hers. "Wait, is–is this...ok? I mean...with the baby? Is it ok to do..._that_? Is it–?"

"Charming," Snow snapped. "I'm pregnant. Pregnant women have done 'that' for all of history. And if you don't come up to our room now and do '_that_' with me, I will take extreme measures." When she began pulling him upstairs to their room by the lapels of his doublet he willingly followed, a grin quirking his lips.

Snow pushed him down onto the bed–apparently _their_ bed, James thrilled at his love referring to the room as 'theirs' already–she straddled his lap.

"Impatient?" he teasingly asked as he dragged her skirts up. His fingertips skimmed up the backs of her thighs, pressing into her hips intent on leaving their imprints on her skin.

She nipped at his bottom lip in mock punishment. "And you're _not_?"

James chuckled, latching his mouth onto hers. His thumbs traced over her hipbones, finally drawing his hands out to run up the back of her dress.

Snow already had his doublet completely untied and open only moments after they were on the bed, palms smoothing up and down his chest. His fingers fumbled over the laces running down her spine; why the _hell_ did women's clothing have to be _so_ gods damned complicated?!

His lover laughed against his lips. "Having trouble?" she taunted.

"I'm tempted to just use my knife," he grumbled, the stays knotting around his fingers.

"Don't you _dare_! Lucy would have my head! This is one of my few dark colored dresses!" Snow tried to sound stern, but there was laughter lacing her tone.

"Then you'd best _help_ me, darling," James growled, "or I won't be responsible for my actions."

Still attempting to stifle her laughter, Snow reached behind her, swatting his hands away and working the laces herself–less than accidentally grinding her hips against him in the process of wriggling out of the garment and dragging a moan from him–once it was loose enough she helped him pull the dress over her head. The princess laughed aloud at the relieved sigh that escaped James when he saw that she wore no corset, only a breastband, camisole and underwear. However, her mirth was quickly stifled by his mouth upon hers and his hands wandering under her few remaining garments.

Snow managed to force his hands away from her long enough to shove his doublet off his shoulders and divest him of his tunic. Lips locked on his, she pushed him onto his back, laughter spilling between their kisses. They scrambled clumsily further onto the bed and James flipped them, propping himself over her. He moved down her torso, pushing the fabric of her camisole up to press his mouth to her still flat belly. He traced loving, soothing patterns over their child, nuzzling the spot where the goddess had blessed them. Her prince lifted his head to grin at Snow, tugging the fabric up and off, Snow arching her back and lifting her arms to help him.

Charming laid a path of open mouthed kisses from her stomach, between her breasts, skimming to the spot just behind her ear that he knew always made her moan and sucked it gently, grinning at the sounds that escaped his love. Snow wrapped one arm around his shoulders, free hand burying in his hair, neck arching into his ministrations. The familiar sting of her nails scraping across his skin flared in his back, her legs locked around his hips, heels digging into his lower back.

"Pants. Off," Snow demanded in gasps.

"You're going to have to unwrap your legs long enough for me to take them off," he teased her, palms skimming to her ankles.

"Well, where's the fun in that?" she muttered into his skin, laughter audible in her muffled voice.

"Impatient," he taunted back, teeth grazing her earlobe and then pressing a kiss behind her ear.

Snow nipped his shoulder, soothing the sting with a sweep of her tongue, reluctantly she released her legs from his hips.

James propped himself up enough to unfasten his breeches and shove them off. He then turned his attention to Snow's remaining undergarment, tugging them down her legs and grinning up at her. He kissed the inside of her knee, tracing a scar there–distantly making a note to ask her about it later. Trailing his lips up her inner thigh, he watched her bite her lip and squirm under his ministrations.

Snow wasn't in the mood for teasing and gripped his shoulders, nails digging in as she drew him up to match her lips to his. James would've liked to draw things out but with the month apart and news of Snow's pregnancy, he was _quite_ willing to forego their usual foreplay.

Pulling back from the kiss, he nuzzled her temple, the sweet, affectionate gesture melting Snow's heart even as her hips shifted restlessly under his. She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "Love you," she murmured against his neck.

"I love you, too," he told her, pressing a kiss to the joint of her neck and shoulder, sliding inside her slowly.

A satisfied sigh escaped both of them, stilling for a moment to just enjoy being together.

James set a slow, gentle pace, in spite of Snow's occasional pleas to go faster, interspersed with teasing words, and gestures.

"I'm not going to break," she complained, bucking her hips to his and wrapping her legs around his waist.

But he just kissed her and kept the pace as it was, capturing the gasps that slipped from her mouth in his own. Snow clung to his shoulders as the pleasure pooled low in her belly, her lips pressed to his temple, moaning into his ear. James slid his palms up her sides, stroking the sides of her breasts with his thumbs and sucking on the joint of her neck and shoulder.

She dug her heels into his lower back, drawing him deeper inside her, pulling his lips to hers in a sloppy but loving kiss. His hands skimmed from her hips to her knees, thighs, back, stomach, never staying still for long, trying to absorb every inch of her skin.

Finally they collapsed on the bed clinging to each other tightly, utterly spent regardless of the more leisurely pace.

It was several minutes before they were able to rouse themselves enough to crawl under the blankets, and tangled together, they drifted off into a deep sleep.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Liam held his hand out and Red padded up on silent paws, and nuzzled his palm, leaning into his touch as he buried his fingers in her fur. The general pressed his face into the thick dark hair at her neck; it'd been a long time since he'd seen her in wolf-form, not since their time in Storybrooke.

Red rested her chin on his shoulder, a contented huff escaping her as she let him embrace her. Liam knew that, even as human as she was, Red enjoyed her time running around in wolf-form, experiencing a freedom that he only barely understood even with her explanations, as frustrated and incomplete as they tended to be because she never felt words properly encompassed how she felt.

He'd brought up the suggestion of him turning...once, but the fear and terror in Red's face instantly silenced him on the subject. Later she'd explained that she was afraid that whoever turned him, even if it was her, might taste blood and go into a frenzy and be unable to stop. And it'd taken nearly an hour of holding her for her trembling to ease.

Liam turned his head to speak softly in her ear. "I love you, Red. You're always beautiful to me."

She licked his cheek and carefully bumped his nose with her wet one, bringing a grin to his face.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head before standing and grinning with his hands in his pockets. "Have fun. I'll see you in the morning."

With an eager yip she turned and dashed off to her impatiently waiting cousins. Liam watched them disappear into the dark forest, a wistful smile on his lips as a chorus of howls echoed back to him.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was drawn into the waking world by James speaking softly, cheek pressed to her belly, fingers caressing where their child slept.

"...I want you to know that you and your mommy are the most important people in all the worlds to me." He traced invisible patterns over her stomach. "I don't want you to ever feel like you aren't important, that you can't come to me about things, that I don't love you with all my heart, that I wouldn't do _anything _for you. I would move heaven, Earth, hell and every single world in existence for you and your mother. I will do _everything_ I can to keep you from getting hurt, and if I can't prevent it I will be there for you, _always_. I would die for you, and I would kill for you." He pressed his lips to their child. "I love you _so much_."

A sniffle escaped Snow, finally drawing James' attention; she gave him a watery smile, hand running through his short hair. "My Charming." She cupped his cheek. "You'll be an _amazing_ father."

He grinned. "And you, my darling Snow, are going to be the _best_ mother." Her love kissed the slight swell of her stomach before pushing himself up on his elbows. "Now," he reached up and lifted Ruth's pendant from where it rested on her chest, "_this_ is my mother's." James smirked. "She gave it to you when she was in Everland."

A grin spread across Snow's face as she nodded. "Mmm hmm."

"She told you about the spell on it?"

Reaching behind her neck to unfasten the clasp, Snow grinned even wider. "Oh, yes."

Lips curled in a smile, James held the pendant up by the chain and let it dangle over her stomach, over their unborn child. Gently it swayed from side to side, following the path of the sun. "I can never remember which direction means what."

Smirking and running her fingers through his hair, Snow asked him coyly, "What do you _think _it means?"

Blue eyes followed the pendant's motion. "Well, going from the dreams we've both been having, and this..._feeling_ I have...I'd say…" His gaze lifted to hers. "A girl."

Snow thought her face would split from how broad her grin was. "Say hello to your daughter."

Joy shone in his eyes as he pressed his lips to her belly. "Hello, my sweet girl."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

A gentle touch of lips to his cheek slowly woke Liam, and he blinked his eyes blearily open. Red was grinning at him as she crouched down in front of him, resting her chin on his knee. Her eyes, though tired, sparkled with excitement and life, as they always did after a night of running free in her wolf-form.

"You're going to have the _worst_ crick in your neck after sleeping in that chair," she softly teased him.

He leaned forward, feeling that very crick twinge at the back of his neck as he did so, carding his fingers through her long locks. "Good night?"

Her grin widened, face leaning into his palm, enjoying his thumb rubbing her temple. "Fantastic. The weather was perfect. Neri and Kline had a great time."

Red had been so happy and excited to be here for her two cousins' first run as wolves and Liam was easily caught up in her enthusiasm.

"You're so beautiful like this," he told her with a smile. Quickly, he added, "You're _always_beautiful, but you're just...magnificent like this. So excited and..._alive_."

She bit her bottom lip as she rose to her feet, then climbed onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Red kissed him, grin still curving her lips. "I love you."

Arms wrapped around her waist, Liam held her tightly, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms as she curled herself around him, burying her face in his neck. "I love you too." He sent out silent thanks to whoever might be listening for being given this love in the first place and even deeper gratitude for having it returned. He was _never_ letting her go again.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James did the breakfast dishes, Snow smiling at him teasingly as she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and danced out the door, saying she'd see him in a few minutes.

After getting the plates all dried and put away he strode outside, Snow stood at the corral fence, their horses were both with her, lapping up the attention she was lavishing on them. For a brief moment an image overlapped the one before him: Snow was still standing in that spot, but she was holding a little girl with long blond curls, helping her feed the animals apples and showing her how to properly pet them. It faded back to the present, but James' heart leapt at the tantalizing peak into the future, _their_ future; he couldn't _wait_ for it, to have such moments for the rest of his life with Snow. For the rest of his life with their family.

He moved over to her. "Hey."

Snow turned to him with a grin, still rubbing Cain's velvet soft nose. "Hi."

The prince reached out a hand and run it over his horse's neck; the stallion glanced at him but immediately turned back to Snow, much more interested in her. "Oh!" James huffed, half-amused and half-annoyed. "I see how it is." He gave Cain's head playful shove. "Traitor." The horse snorted.

His princess laughed, scratching Cain's forelock while her other hand stroked over Aravis' neck. "Animals like me."

James leaned against the fence. "You're not worried about Aravis being in the corral with Cain?"

She shook her head. "They're both well trained and behaved, and 'Ravie isn't in heat."

He switched to her other side to run a hand over the mare's coat. "I've been meaning to ask about Aravis." Blue eyes studied the gold coat and cream-colored mane and tail of the horse. "She doesn't have the usual coloring of horses from Everland or most any other kingdom, except Agrabah."

A wistful smile curved Snow's mouth. "That's right. She looks so much like her mother, Sophia, my mother's favorite mare." James stilled beside her, but Snow's attention was solely on her horse. "She was a gift from Father, he brought Sophia home to Mother early in their marriage after a particularly long trip to Agrabah. She'd been fascinated and enchanted with the desert horses, and when the opportunity to acquire one presented itself he snapped Sophia up." She glanced up at him. "You know how very _rare_ it is that anyone from Agrabah permits an outsider to have one of their horses. As it was, Father had to agree to not have her pedigree."

James' eyebrows had flown up when she admitted to Aravis' origins, nodding in acknowledgment of her statement. The pedigrees of the Agrabahan horses were closely guarded secrets, the horses considered the most valuable things anyone in the kingdom could own. He couldn't imagine how much King Leopold had paid or what he had done to get one.

Snow had returned her attention to the mare. "My mother loved that horse." A contemplative smile lifted her expression. "She taught me to ride herself, and Sophia was the first horse she put me on." Hints of tears glinted in emerald eyes. "Some of my earliest memories are of riding Sophia in front of my mother." Blinking rapidly, Snow swallowed hard. "When–when Mother...died...I spent most of the nights during that first month sleeping on the floor of Sophie's stall." A soft laugh escaped her. "She stood guard over me, like I was one of her own foals." Snow's fingertips traced the white stripe on Aravis' face. "After that Sophia, even though she was a bit big for me, pretty much became my horse..." her lips quirked in amusement, "or I became her human." She glanced at her prince. "I often overheard trainers and stablehands debating the subject."

Aravis pressed her face into Snow's chest and she stroked the mare's head. "Each time Sophia had a foal, I paid close attention to how they raised and trained them, helped more and more with each. Around...around the time Father married Regina..." her lower lip trembled but she took a deep breath and continued, voice steady, "Sophia was getting old and they decided to breed her one last time. I spent the whole of the pregnancy hovering around Sophie, taking care of her," she glanced at him confidingly, "though I wasn't just worried for her, she was also a good distraction from my new stepmother. As you can tell Aravis was born healthy and strong, and while the birth went well..." she shrugged, "Sophia didn't recover quickly or as well as before. She tended to 'Ravi well, but I was...hesitant to ride her." Snow pressed her cheek to her horse's forehead. "She looked so much more fragile, sweet Sophie. Father gave permission for me to raise and train Aravis myself, with the supervision of the head trainer, Bran. Under his guidance," she smiled slightly, "and Sophia's watchful gaze, I put into practice what I was taught, and even with a few mistakes I managed to succeed..."

Green eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping out. "Sophia died two years later...I cried for a week."

James wrapped his arms around her and Snow leaned into his embrace with a shuddering sigh.

"It felt like I was losing my mother all over again," she admitted, stroking a hand up and down Aravis' face. "She's how I hang on to both of them."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Over lunch and dinner James learned that Snow's palette had become very picky and inconsistent with her pregnancy. Coffee, he learned, was going to be out some mornings for him (the scent sometimes turned her stomach), as was bacon, certain cheeses, sauces and soups with tomato base... He firmly agreed with her that any alcohol was out, and was more than happy to abstain with her. She also had some of the famed odd cravings, fish topped with vanilla custard, strawberries in her chicken soup...she usually made the "normal" dishes for James and then added what she wanted to her own plate.

He tried to hold back his grimaces at her choices but Snow burst out laughing at his contorted expression, he was thankful she took it with humor rather than offense. She scooped up some of the fish with custard onto her fork and leaned across the table with it, offering it to him. "Try it," she prompted.

James pursed his lips in distaste, but reluctantly obliged, leaning forward to accept the food off the fork. His love laughed even harder at the variety of expressions that chased over his face, finally settling on confused more than anything.

"Well?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"I...don't know... It's not bad, more...odd."

She giggled as she took a bite of her own, smiling around it as she chewed; James felt, in that moment, he'd eat almost anything she offered him if it made her that happy.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Snow was lying on her side, head propped on her hand, watching her fiancé-to-be undress to get ready for bed. After he pulled off his tunic her eyes traced the long, thin scar over his right shoulder blade. "I've been meaning to ask you about that scar on your shoulder blade." She gestured at it as her lover turned. "How did you get it? It looks like a scar I saw on a knight's chest once, it was inflicted by a scimitar."

James' eyes narrowed, frowning. "Why were you looking at a knight's chest?"

Her mouth twitched, emerald orbs sparkling with amusement. "You're looking a little green around the edges, my love," she teased.

"Snow..." he growled warningly.

Throwing back her head, she laughed. "I was 13, the guards were in the training yard; it was high summer and the hottest day we'd had in a decade. Red and I were trying to pretend not to be watching." Snow continued to smile amusedly at James' scowl. "We were young girls, I believe it's fairly normal for girls that age to ogle good looking men, especially when they're shirtless." She cocked an eyebrow. "It means about as much as young boys staring at pretty girls, or sneaking peeks of them bathing." Snow smirked as he had the good grace to blush.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, sheepishly looking down at his hands. "Um...it was a few years ago. I...uh...ended up getting between Jasmine and a potential suitor, and I...rather insulted him." He sat down on the bed facing Snow. "He took it personally, and demanded a duel." James waved over his shoulder at the scar. "He ended up the worse for it, but got a shot in before it was over."

Snow reached over, fingers finding the mark by touch alone. "How did Jasmine feel about all of this?"

A chuckled rumbled from him as he stretched out on his side next her. "Well, she was the one who actually got in the strike that ended it...she punched him in the jaw, knocking him out."

His princess smirked. "I think I really might like her."

"I'm scared by how much I _know_ you'll like her. And how much she's going to like you," James snorted.

She just grinned unrepentantly.

"Now," he shifted to reach for her leg, "since we're discussing scars," his thumb traced the white twist of flesh on her knee, "where did you get this one?"

A wistful smile twisted her lips. "That...that was the turning point after I lost my mother. The moment when I truly began to heal."

One blond eyebrow rose. "You had to get hurt–and fairly badly if this scar is anything to go by–in order to start healing?"

"Ironic, isn't it?" Snow ran her fingers through his hair. "That cove in Lochdubh? The one where I found you and where we..." she bit her lip coyly, "had our lunch?"

A half laugh-half groan escaped James. "Yes?"

"It was right after we left the High Court that last time, I can hardly even remember what set it off, but...I was so..._angry_... I ran off from our manor, totally heedless of where I was going and what I was doing. I tripped...or slipped...I'm not sure, but suddenly I was in the water, being dragged down by an undertow. Gaspard...he'd just arrived in Lochdubh with his parents, he saw me and followed. If he hadn't I would've drowned; he pulled me out of the water. Once we were back on land, he noticed that I was bleeding." Snow covered the hand he had over the old injury. "I was bleeding a lot, but he staunched it enough and got me help."

James tucked the lock that had fallen across her face behind her ear and then cupped her cheek in his palm. "Then I owe him a debt I can never repay."

She leaned into his touch. "So do I." Closing her eyes, Snow took a deep breath. "As I was struggling there, trying to get my head back above water, I realized how careless I was being with my own life, that my mother would want me to _really_ live. That _I _wanted to truly live."

His palm skimmed down her side to her knee, thumb once again tracing the scar. "Then I can be grateful for this."

Snow pressed her fingertips to the scar on his chin. "Scars are just reminders of important things, of lessons learned. I don't mind them in the _slightest_."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James was jostled from his sleep, his hand automatically reaching for his sword at the abrupt interruption. All he saw was Snow dashing to the chamber pot near the bed, gagging.

He sprang out of bed to her side, sweeping her hair into his hand and holding it back, rubbing her back soothingly while she threw up. Reaching up to the mew, James dunked the washcloth on the stand into the basin of water and wrung it out. He dabbed it at the back of her neck where sweat was starting to bead from her exertion.

Finally Snow collapsed back against James' chest once the round of heaving had ceased.

He ran the damp cloth across her forehead, kissing her sweaty temple. "You know," he began after she'd caught her breath and was finally relaxed against him, "right now this very moment is one of the best in my life thus far."

As utterly exhausted as she was Snow felt a spike of annoyance. "What, holding your almost-fiancée's hair back as she throws up her guts because she's pregnant with your child?" She just barely had the energy to imbue her voice with some of her irritation.

James picked up on her tone, and remembering what he'd been told about pregnant women and their moods, knew he needed to tread carefully and clarify what he meant _very_ quickly. "No, that is not what I meant. I meant because I'm holding my whole world in my arms right now."

His love lifted her head to meet his gaze.

James' palm moved to rest on her abdomen. "You and our daughter are my whole world."

Tears welled in emerald eyes. "Keep saying such sweet things, Charming, and you're going to have me in tears for the next seven months," she told him in an attempt at her usual humor.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"_A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light I take thee for pity."_

The next afternoon found Snow and James on a picnic by the waterfall she'd taken him to on the first night. They were sprawled on the blanket he'd spread over the ground, Snow on her back with James resting his head on her stomach; she ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying listening to him read one of their favorite plays.

Teasingly she cut in with Beatrice's line, "_I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and partly to save you life, for I was told you were in a consumption._"

Abruptly he twisted around, now resting prone above her, tickling Snow's sides mercilessly.

"Charming!" she shrieked through laughter, writhing under his onslaught.

He locked his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. "_Peace! I will stop your mouth._"

Muffled laughter escaped from between their lips, her arms curving over his shoulders and James' fingers burying in her hair.

"You two _really _need to learn to be more careful about when you're together right now."

The couple jerked apart, heads whipping around at the voice to find their three friends standing a few paces off: Liam, who'd spoken, smirking, Red giving them a droll look and Ella pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.

James turned back to Snow, rolling his eyes and muttering, low enough that only she heard, "Seriously?" as he pushed himself up and away from her.

The princess laughed softly, sitting up and grinning at the trio before them. "How are you all doing?"

"Great." Red's hazel eyes lit with excitement, obviously having enjoyed her time with her relatives.

Liam's gaze locked on the dark-haired woman next to him made it obvious what he was enjoying about this trip.

"Well," Ella nodded as they joined the couple on the blanket, "I've found several bolts of cotton at the market here, just what I've been looking for to replace several of the dwarfs' shirts." Her nose wrinkled. "They seem to have...issues with getting new ones when they need them."

The two other women made equally disgusted faces.

"What is it with men and not properly dressing themselves?" Red questioned, plucking a cookie from the basket.

"Hey!" James protested. "I dress well."

"Yes," Snow's mouth twitched with amusement, "but who should receive the credit for that? You or your mother?"

The prince opened and closed his mouth in several attempts to defend himself, but finally snapped it shut and pressed his lips together, rolling his eyes. His friends and love burst out laughing and he glared at his general. "And you're any better than me?"

Liam smirked, shaking his head. "I've made _no_ such claim. I _know_ better." He chose an orange from the picnic. "If your mother didn't keep an eye on my wardrobe, I'd likely forget to get new clothes entirely."

James mock scowled. "Traitor. And who said you could join us?"

"Snow hasn't objected," the general nodded to the princess, smirk still gracing his mouth. "And don't tell me _you _are going to contradict her."

The fair-haired man turned Snow to see her looking at him with raised eyebrows, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Well, Charming?" Her lips twitched, trying to suppress a wicked grin.

A glance at the other two women showed that he'd find no aid from that quarter.

With a put-upon sigh he admitted defeat. "No, my darling."

Laughing, Snow leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Serves you right for subverting my authority in my own castle."

He mock winced. "I knew that would come back to bite me."

Their friends enjoyed a good laugh at his expense.

James narrowed his eyes at the picnic basket. "Did you know they were coming? Is that why you packed such a large lunch?"

Trying to stifle a grin, Snow affected a careless shrug. "Red and Ella might've mentioned _possibly_ seeking us out at some point today."

"Face it, James," the werewolf told him, "you aren't going to win."

"Lose with grace," the blonde advised him before taking a bite from a cookie.

For all his being ganged up on by their friends, James was enjoying himself greatly, he'd missed these times from Lochdubh when they would all be together just laughing and joking. And the joy and amusement on Snow's face was something he'd _never_ grow tired of seeing.

"_I'll tell thee what, prince..._"

They all turned to find Red reading from the discarded volume of _Much Ado About Nothing_.

"_...a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour._" She smirked at the royal couple over the top of the book. "_Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it;_" she sat up straighter, holding her head high, continuing in a faux-grandiose voice, "_and therefore never flout at me for what _I _have said against it..._" eyes sparkling amusedly at Liam she said the last line, "_for man...is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion._"

James couldn't agree more with the famous line, especially for those in love...and he found himself completely unapologetic for it.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

Ella watched as Red and Liam walked out of the house, she to join her cousins for their full moon run and he to see her off for the night. The blonde had no qualms with admitting she was jealous of her two best friends for having the men they loved there while Thomas was absent.

She pierced the needle in her hand through the gray velvet fabric spread across her lap, piecing the hood onto the cloak. Red had eagerly dragged her over to one of her relative's fabric shops and helped her select the cloth. She'd then shown her the pattern for the traditional cloaks they wore in Everland for the ceremony at the end of the mourning period. Ella had already made a new dress for the autumn equinox celebration, a sky blue color that she knew Thomas liked on her; she hoped that he might attend.

Rubbing the material between her fingers, Ella bit her lip. Thomas had discussed with her the possibility they might have to declare themselves engaged sooner than they'd intended...and that she might have to be queen of Seaborn rather than simply Riverdon. Her heart pounded at the thought. A land she'd never been to, the largest kingdom in the realm... Oh gods and goddesses, she was unnerved enough about marrying Thomas when he was going to be king of one of the smaller thrones–the throne of her native kingdom. Ella scrubbed a palm over her forehead; she loved Thomas, loved him with her whole heart...but could she do this? Could she, who'd been little more than a slave for so many years, be a queen?

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

_Charming raced across countryside and through forests, heart pounding in time with his steed's hooves. Glancing at the ring on his pinky finger every few minutes he could see the gem glowing progressively brighter. The hoofbeats drummed out the mantra of his love's name, Snow Snow Snow Snow Snow... The remembered excruciating pain that assaulted him as he was lying in the Queen's dungeon, and the constant, gaping emptiness he'd felt ever since were more than enough to tell him that something truly terrible had befallen his beloved._

_White flakes of snow had begun to fall when the gem reached a blinding brilliancy; Charming's eyes flew around his surroundings, knowing that she was somewhere near. A group of dwarfs clustered around something he couldn't see caught his eye and he just knew that was where she was. Not even waiting for the horse to stop, he threw himself from its back, hurrying forward as the dwarfs turned to him._

_One with white hair and beard, and gold-rimmed spectacles stepped forward, his voice quavering as he said, "You're too late."_

_Their group parted, revealing what it was they were gathered around._

_A glass-lidded coffin. And inside, adorned in white, she lay._

No! _The word resounded in his mind, falling thoughtlessly from his lips over and over as he ran to her side. His hands pressed to the lid, meeting cold unforgiving glass._

_Her long dark curls–he saw her in his mind the first time they met, those very locks windblown and rebelliously disheveled, beautiful beyond words–fanned around her head. Her lips were a darker red than normal, even starker in their contrast against her pale skin. Her eyelashes sooty crescents against her cheeks, never again to open to reveal laughing emerald eyes. Still as death._

It _couldn't _be true! Not after how long and hard they've fought to be together!

"_Open it," he commanded, sounding more like the prince he'd been forced to become than he ever had before._

"_I'm sorry," a dwarf with a dark beard and a gruff voice told him. "She's gone."_

Nononononononononono! She _can't _be! She _can't_! _his mind protested as he collapsed under the weight of his grief on his knees beside her coffin, begging any power that might be listening to give her back. How was he going to go on without her?_

James gasped, eyes snapping open and sweeping the room ceaselessly, trying to reorient himself. A form shifting in his arms drew his attention.

Snow snuggled deeper into his side with a sigh, her exhale fanning across his chest.

Relief coursed through him at the feeling of her, naked, warm and alive against him. James' hand went to her stomach, their child nestled safe in her womb, growing, warm and protected. A relieved sigh escaped him as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, his mouth finding hers. Slowly his love responded to his kiss, drawn to the waking world by his lips and wandering hands.

"Charming?" she murmured sleepily against his mouth, arms encircling his neck.

Rolling on top of her, he skimmed his hands down her sides; Snow arched into him, wrapping a leg around his. He lifted his head slightly and Snow's eyes–though sleepy, danced with life and vibrancy–fluttered open, meeting his, a hand caressing his forehead and cheek.

"What's wrong, Charming?" Worry filled her emerald orbs.

James pressed his forehead against hers, arms tightening around her. "You were dead. Dead…and I…" He captured her mouth desperately.

She accepted his desperation, arched into his demanding, possessive caresses, curling her legs around his waist. "I'm here," Snow breathed against his lips, guiding his hand to her chest where he could feel her steady heartbeat. "I'm alive." Her beloved gasped into their kiss, feeling the tears burning in his eyes. "I love you." She moaned as he entered her. "I'm not going anywhere, Charming. I love you."

The fact that he should be more gentle in making love to her passed fleetingly through his mind, but her cries of pleasure and hands pulling him closer, nails digging into his skin, urged him on in their almost violent union.

"Gods, how I love you," he groaned into the joint of her shoulder and neck as they finally collapsed into the pillows, panting.

Snow kept her legs locked around his waist, hands stroking lovingly up and down his back, while her lips traced the tear tracks on his cheeks. "I love you too, my Prince Charming," she murmured against his temple. "And I'm not letting you go, _ever_."

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

James and Snow packed their bags the next morning with _much_ less enthusiasm than they had only days earlier. Ella, Red and Liam would arrive shortly for breakfast before they all rode out for their respective destinations. Just a few more days, they kept reminding themselves, just a few more days and his dealings with Midas would be concluded; the mourning period would be complete; James would be able to propose and they could be together openly. Though they were fully cognizant of the complications that also lay ahead: if Midas took offense and having to deal with his ire, and telling their families about the pregnancy, they were trying to hold on to the positives and only deal with those issues as they arose.

Palm gently caressing the small of her back, James asked, "Will you be all right?"

Snow caught his hand, tangling their fingers together. "I'll be fine, Charming." She tossed him a teasing, scolding look. "Don't fuss."

"As m'lady commands," he said in a mock-serious tone, earning himself an eye roll. Chuckling, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Just a few days," he breathed against her skin, trying to reassure himself as much as her.

"Just a few days," Snow quietly agreed.

Both had a feeling they'd be among the longest days either had ever experienced.

ONCE~ONCE~ONCE~ONCE

"This is it."

Abigail lifted her head from her book–her father thought it was a novel but was in reality a book on the laws and customs of a neighboring kingdom; the princess was absolutely _fascinated_ with law, order and politics, subjects generally not considered appropriate for women in her kingdom. "What is, Father?" she politely inquired.

"Prince James will be arriving in two days." He clapped his hands, and rubbed them together eagerly. "We'll announce your engagement that evening and it will all be arranged."

"Oh...yes..." Her face was frozen in an emotionless smile. "How–how...wonderful..." Gods, how had she become so trapped?


	25. Chapter 22: Thank the Gods

So, my dearies and darlings, here it _finally_ is! I promise I had reasons for it taking this long! _Good_ reasons! XD I spent most of the summer studying to take the LSAT this past September (for those who don't know what that is, it's basically the SAT's to get into Law School.) Yes, the intrepid writer is endeavoring to get into law school! XD It'll probably be at least another two years until then, but keep your fingers crossed! :-D Anywho. Moving on to what you're _really_ here for, rather than my rambling author's notes, the next chapter of **Once Upon a Time…and Again**!

Dartie…what would I do without you? ;-D *tackle hug* THANK YOU!

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

**Chapter 22: Thank the Gods**

_Kingdom Doro_

Was it possible for one person to end the world? Abigail mentally shook her head at her own overdramatic thoughts. No, the world wasn't going to end…just _hers_. She gave a mental eye roll at her mind's continued hyperbole. She supposed she could be forgiven her distress, given all of her hopes for happiness and love were about to be completely and soundly crushed.

Prince James dismounted from his grey stallion, his general—what was the man's name again? Will? Lee? Nearly as long as she could remember he'd been the prince's ever-present shadow—right behind him. The prince was as fair and good looking as she remembered, but, as when they'd met before, she was unmoved by how handsome he was, and he appeared equally unaffected by her when their eyes met, not even the stirrings of attraction in his gaze.

"Prince James, how glad we are to finally see you!" her father greeted the prince grandly, though with a thread of reproach.

Abigail couldn't help disagreeing with the statement heartily. "Prince James," she dutifully curtseyed in response to his bow.

"Thank you for having me, King Midas and Princess Abigail." His tone was completely neutral, nothing to indicate his true feelings.

"Well," Midas' eyes cut between the prince and princess, "Abigail, why don't you show Prince James to his quarters. One of the servants can show your general to his own," he quickly said before the younger royal could formulate a protest.

"Of course, Father," Abigail agreed in the blandest of tones. "Please, follow me," she directed to James.

She heard the prince take a deep breath before following her into the castle.

Aside from their echoing footsteps, their progress through the halls of the castle was silent, tension pressing in on their ears like a rapid descent dive to the depths of the ocean. Abigail couldn't stand the suspense; a sharp turn around one corner detoured them toward the gardens. If James found it odd when they stepped out into the bright sun, glittering walkways and manicured bushes he said nothing.

They reached the center where a pure gold water fountain with the likeness of her mother stood, water flowing from the tipped pitcher in her hands and bubbling from glittering rock by her gilt feet—Abigail's father had it commissioned shortly after the queen's death to be carved out of marble, but had turned it to gold upon completion. The princess gazed up into the statue's eyes, so very like her mother's save for the color, trying to draw the necessary strength to ask the question she _needed_ the answer to, whether it shattered her hopes entirely or not. Drawing a deep breath into her lungs she spun to face James, chin held high.

"May I be blunt, Prince James?"

A single blond brow rose fractionally, surprise flickering over his expression before a careful neutrality settled back in. "If you wish. I do prefer honesty."

Knuckles white from clasping her hands together, Abigail took another bracing breath. "Are you here to ask for my hand?"

Blue eyes flicked away from her, his thumb rubbing over the pommel of his sword in a nervous gesture, lips pressed into a thin line. It was long moments of Abigail being unable to draw a breath before he _finally_ met her gaze again and answered.

"No."

Air rushed into her lungs, great gasps of relief escaping her, as her eyes slid shut and she thanked whatever god or goddess had listened to her pleas.

"That wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting… You look like your execution was just stayed."

A short laugh escaped her as Abigail opened her eyes and met his, apologetic but still so _very_ relieved. She was a little surprised to see a look of wry amusement on his face rather than grave insult.

"Was I so abhorrent a potential husband?" Abigail was glad for the teasing in the prince's voice and features…and was that relief she detected in his own expression?

Managing something of a contrite expression, the princess shook her head. "No. Not…abhorrent…" She stared down at her twisting fingers. "I…I'm in love with someone else." Her head shot up and she rushed to continue her explanation, "It was after father wanted the arrangement between us, and I didn't mean–"

James' hand gently landed on her shoulder, head shaking, the relief and amusement now taking full rein of his features cut off her panicked ramble. "Abigail, it's fine…" His mouth quirked up further at the corner. "I'm in love with someone else too."

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Who?"

His expression softened into a besotted smile. "Snow White." The name fell from his lips like a prayer.

A soft laugh escaped Abigail and she lightly shook her head. "I should've known."

He canted his head inquiringly.

"The way you two were when we were children," she elaborated, laughter threading her voice.

James smirked. "Did nearly everyone _except_ Snow and I remember that?"

Surprise overtook her expression. "You'd forgotten?"

He sent a wry smile her way. "Apparently it had slipped _both_ of our minds."

She cocked an eyebrow. "The pair of you were inseparable during High Court functions."

He shrugged. "We hadn't seen each other since her last visit to High Court. We remembered each other but we just didn't realize until a couple of months after we met again that that had been each other."

"When did you meet again?" Her head tilted inquiringly.

An amused half-grin quirked his lips, hand lifting to trace his thumb along a small scar on his chin. "My parents and I visited her kingdom for their Spring Equinox festival. And she and I have met several times since then…" James' smile became almost shy, and Abigail found it endearing in a purely platonic way. "We've been making plans for getting engaged and married for months now…"

Abigail nodded slowly, a wistful feeling twisting in her chest. "I've hardly dared to _imagine_ that far…"

His hand was gentle on hers. "Who is he?"

Her mouth curved into an aching smile. "His name is Fredrick… He's my father's Champion. I met him for the first time only days after you left…" Her gaze drifted off into the distance. "He's so brave and loyal, kind, sweet…he makes me smile and laugh and accepts and loves me with _all_ of my flaws."

James nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. "As Snow does me." A palm pressed to his chest. "She'll be out of mourning in a few days, I'll officially propose to her then…gods willing."

Two sets of blue eyes met…identical smiles slowly lifted their mouths.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Glenbriar_

"James knows."

Aurora nearly spat out her tea. "_What_?!" Setting down her teacup with a loud clank, she eyed the man she called brother incredulously at his nonchalant tone.

Eric's lips twitched with the effort of holding in his laughter as she coughed violently and, grabbing her so-far untouched glass of water, took a sip. "He found me with Ariel one morning. I hadn't realized he frequently went walking early."

Normally the blond princess would've glared at him for finding amusement in her misfortune, but her eyes were too busy bugging out of her head. "What did he _say_?!"

The prince shrugged, turning his cup on its saucer. "That I should be more careful and he promised to say nothing to anyone else."

"Well I certainly agree with him about being careful!" Groaning, she rubbed her temples. "This is getting out of hand. _Too many people know_!" She dropped her hands with rather loud, consecutive thuds on the table, rattling their dishes, and returned her gaze to him. "You two _have_ to get this figured out because it isn't going to stay secret for much longer!"

"I know, I _know_!" he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "We just _still_ can't think of any way for this to work out, and we just _can't_ let each other go!" His palms scrubbed over his face and back into his hair where they fisted, forehead dropping to the table with a thud. "James has offered any aid he can render, but even he has no ideas."

Aurora sighed, reaching out and placing a gentle hand atop one of his that was still pulling too tightly on dark locks. How she longed to do _something_ to help the man he thought of as her brother! She loved all of her friends but Eric had always been different, just like Snow and Red were different for Gaspard, and Gaspard and Red and even Ella were different for Snow, and vice versa for Red. They'd all accepted there was some favoritism, and even a bit of a division, in their group of friends, but somehow they'd managed to maintain their close bonds and not let the divisions break them apart. Their relationships were so very beautiful and precious to Aurora.

Eric's hand turned slightly under hers so that he could grasp her fingers, and she gripped back tightly, smiling softly as his thumb stroked her index finger.

"It's impossible," he mumbled into the tablecloth. "An _impossible_ situation."

With a soft laugh, Aurora pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. "Well, then you're lucky that our little group does rather specialize in the impossible."

He snorted, the noise slightly muffled by his face still being pressed to the tabletop, before finally lifting his head, their hands slipping from his hair, but maintaining their grasp on each other. "I suppose we do, don't we?"

She grinned brightly.

His wry smile became a touch cautious. "Not to spoil this oh-so-good mood, but…how did things go with Phillip?"

Aurora groaned as she slumped back in her chair, eyes rolling skyward.

Eric chuckled. "That well?"

"That complicated," she corrected with a sigh. "I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but not for the reasons I first thought…"

Surprise flashed over his features and he narrowed his eyes slightly. "So you're _really_ thinking of trying for this engagement?"

She fiddled with her napkin. "Yeah…yeah, I really am."

The prince peered at her closely. "Are you in love with him?"

Shock blazed across her face, chased by a kaleidoscope of other emotions. "_No_!" she squeaked. "I mean…" she fumbled over her words, mouth opening and closing soundlessly a few times. "Well…" Aurora blew out a breath. "Not…not yet," the blonde conceded. "But," she bit her lip, "I think I _could_ be…given time…and if he's willing…"

Dark eyebrows climbed Eric's forehead as he listened to his surrogate sister's faltering words. "Well…" A smirk slowly grew on his face. "I _never_ thought I'd live to hear you admit that you just _might_ fall in love with Phillip of Lochlomond."

She glared and tossed her napkin at him. "Oh, shut up."

"Aurora and Phillip sitting in a–OW!"

"Serves you right."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Everland_

Both castle and village were a flurry of activity, preparations for both the End of Mourning ceremony and the Equinox Festival underway. Snow had thrown herself into the middle of it all, needing the distraction to help pass the days until Charming returned, and their fates were decided.

"Red," she glanced over at her friend while digging through the papers spread out on the table in Granny's kitchen, "have you seen the receipt for the candles?"

The younger dark-haired woman set aside the ledger she'd been going over and helped her friend sift through the semi-neat piles. "I think you set it over here somewhere… Ah hah!" She held up the paper triumphantly.

"Thank you!" The princess grinned at her friend gratefully, sitting back down and going over the receipt. "Regina would have my head if we didn't order enough."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Red assured her friend as she sat down, resuming her own work. "And you really don't have to be doing all of this, most of the castle staff and town can handle it." She'd have added Regina's name, but the queen had taken upon herself to respond to massive pile of written condolences they'd received now that the mourning period was ending. Both women were still aggressively protecting Leopold, forcing him to continue resting, regaining his strength.

"'Have to,' no," she agreed. "'Need to for the sake of my sanity?' Yes."

Red snorted. "Granted." Making a notation in the ledger, she asked, "Have you heard from your charming prince?"

Snow stilled for a moment. "Not yet… He said he'd arrive at King Midas' today." She bit her lip. "He should be turning down the betrothal soon."

The younger woman's eyes lifted at the obvious nerves in her sister's tone, she reached across the table, covering the princess' hand with her own. "It'll work out."

Snow's gaze slowly rose to hers.

The innkeeper's granddaughter nodded firmly. "I know it." If there was anything she'd learned over the lives she'd lived, it was that if there was _anything_ that you could put your faith in it was Snow and Charming's love for each other, and them making it all work out… But that didn't mean she was freaking out any the less…

The older woman managed a smile, returning her friend's grip tightly. "Thank you."

Red _really_ hoped that the smile she gave her surrogate sister was more convincing than it felt.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Doro_

"Well," Midas made a sweeping gesture with his arms, eyeing James eagerly, "shall we be making a certain announcement?"

James thought that it probably would've been better if he'd arranged to _not_ have this discussion in the throne room, the king certainly looked all the more overbearing standing in front of his throne. The prince took a deep breath, clasping his hands behind him. "No."

The king's expression fell, and an instant later darkened. "'No?'"

Steeling himself further, picturing Snow, James stood as straight and tall as possible. "No. I will _not_ be marrying Abigail."

Midas' face went from pink to red to purple…James distantly wondered if he was going to literally explode. "HOW DARE YOU?!" he roared.

James scrunched his eyes shut momentarily, swaying back slightly at the force of the shouting, but he didn't flinch, and opened his eyes again, meeting the furious man's gaze directly. "I don't love Abigail."

"WHAT THE _HELL_ DOES LOVE HAVE TO DO WITH IT?! WHAT DOES LOVE HAVE TO DO WITH A PROPER MARRIAGE?! HOW _DARE_ YOU INSULT MY FAMILY THIS WAY?!"

Keeping his voice calm and carefully level, James replied, "I mean no insult—"

"I'LL _DESTROY_ YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AND YOUR KI—"

"_Father, enough_!"

Both of their heads whipped around at the shout, the king looking completely flummoxed and James shocked, but also relieved and more than a little impressed.

Abigail stood in the doorway, hands fisted at her sides, looking quite breathtaking in her righteous indignation, glaring at her father.

"_Abigail_?!" Midas gaped at his daughter, completely aghast.

The blond princess' jaw set at a stubborn angle. "_Stop_ this, Daddy!"

James decided that it would be best to keep his mouth shut, and was quite happy to do so in all honesty.

Abigail charged past him with firm, measured steps. "Daddy, you are going to _accept_ James' refusal of my hand. You are _not_ going to threaten or harm in _any_ way him, his family, friends or kingdom. And you _are_ going to wish him happiness with the woman he loves."

The king now wore an expression of utter shock. "'The woman he—'"

"And!" she quickly cut in, taking a deep breath, finally looking a bit nervous herself. "You're going to give your blessing for me to marry the man _I_ love."

Midas' jaw hit the floor. "The man…the man that you… _Who_?!"

Abigail took another bracing breath. "Fredrick," she managed to say after a few beats.

The king's eyebrows shot up. "Fredrick?! My Champion, Fredrick?!" His head whipped around to where said man stood off to the side but still in a position of prominence among the other members of the guard.

The knight immediately moved to Abigail's side, taking her proffered hand. With the length of time it took for the man to remove his helm, James had a feeling he was swallowing _hard_ and taking a _very_ deep breath. However, the Champion refused to show any of the nerves he _had_ to be feeling the moment his face was no longer concealed by the helmet.

"Yes, Daddy," Abigail confirmed, voice unwavering as she gripped her beloved's hand, "Fredrick. We're in love and we want to get married." She took a deep breath. "And you're going to give us your blessing, _and_ give James your blessing to marry _his_ love."

Midas seemed to still be in shock, eyes flicking back and forth between his daughter and Champion, seemingly having forgotten James very existence. "Fredrick?" He did a rather impressive imitation, in James' opinion, of a fish. "My side chambers…_now_," he managed to gasp out to the couple before sweeping off in the direction of a side door.

Abigail and Fredrick glanced at each other and then to James, who shrugged and mouthed, "Good luck."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

The room was dimly lit by a fire in the hearth and two candles. The king rounded on his daughter and Champion. "How the _hell_ did this happen?!"

Abigail reached out to grip her and Fredrick's already joined hands with her other one, the knight mirroring her action, then inclined her chin stubbornly. "When you introduced us shortly before the Winter Solstice…"

Fredrick held his head high, keeping his hands from shaking by sheer force of will and a tight grip on his princess' own. "I love your daughter, sire. More than anyone or anything in this or any other world. From the moment I met her. I hope that you will give us your blessing."

Midas opened and closed his mouth soundlessly several times. "Wh-what about Prince James and Seaborn?! This is an affront to them—"

"I told you, Father, he's in love with another!"

Abigail wondered if it was physically possible for one's jaw to touch the floor whilst standing. "Another…? _Who_?!"

"Princess Snow White of Everland," the princess promptly responded. "They met again during the Spring Equinox." She took a bracing breath. "He won't take offense in _any_ way and I wish him every happiness."

Her father looked torn between being flummoxed, tired, and exceedingly irritated. Finally, he seemed to give up and just collapsed into his chair. "Fine."

"We can get married?" Abigail's voice rang with the beginnings of hope.

The king smiled wearily. "Yes…I give my blessing."

A joyous, uncharacteristically unladylike shriek escaped Abigail as she shot over to her father, nearly tackling him with a hug. "Thank you, Daddy!"

Fredrick, relief palpable, approached the king, accepting his hearty handshake.

"Well," Midas muttered, "I suppose we should inform Prince James."

The trio moved to the door, the couple glowing and the king just barely keeping himself from glowering.

"Prince James."

The sandy-haired man in question stiffened at the king's voice, but turned to face him.

Midas looked from his daughter and her newly-trothed, back to the prince. "It appears we shall have to form a different alliance between our kingdoms."

James nearly collapsed with relief, wondering how many times one could endure a shock in such a brief period before passing out without appearing unmanly.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Everland_

An unheard of event. Total surprise. Ella would've _never_ expected it. Her eyes kept drifting from the darning in her hands to her companion sitting across the dwarfs' kitchen table from her. The last person she'd have _ever_ expected to voluntarily sit down with her. Grumpy kept his head bent over the handful of gems he was inspecting, scowling as he carefully set some aside in a neat group atop the table, and tossed others into a tin cup. Ella knew there were _dozens_ of other places he could perform this task but he'd chosen to sit here with her. Grumpy had _never_ sought her out like this before, in fact, outside of his brothers, it seemed like the only ones he went to for any companionship were Snow and, occasionally, Red.

The blonde was trying _very_ hard to hide her shock and not make any show of his presence, knowing that the gruff dwarf wouldn't appreciate it, and that to do so would set them back in their budding friendship–at least she _hoped_ that it was a friendship.

They continued in the companionable, if shocked on Ella's end, silence.

"So," Grumpy finally said, not looking up from what the young woman thought might be a ruby, "you happy here?"

She had to fight very hard against her lips' desire to curve upward, both touched and moved that he was checking on her. Keeping her head down and focused on her task, she responded casually but honestly. "Very. I haven't been this happy in _so_ many years." A soft smile curved her lips thinking of all the good that had happened for her in the last several months.

"That young prince of yours have something to do with that?" he asked gruffly.

Blue eyes snapped up to him, however the dwarf's narrow-eyed inspection remained on the gem grasped between his fingers. Biting her lip, Ella stared down at her momentarily still hands. "Thomas has been wonderful…" She fidgeted with the fabric. "We've been making plans to get engaged…" Her head shot up, eyes wide. "Though I promise that I won't leave you all before finding someone who can—"

"Not what I'm worried about, sister," he interrupted, finally looking up to meet her gaze, tossing the jewel in the tin cup with a soft ping, planting his elbows on the table, and leaning toward her. "What I wanna know is does he make you happy? Will he make ya happy? And does he treat you right?"

Her jaw hung loosely open. The gruff semi-paternal/fraternal-like concern he was showing threw her for a moment and then drew burning tears to her eyes, threatening to stream down her cheeks. Ella cleared her throat, managing a smile. "Yes, he makes me _very_ happy. While it's a bit overwhelming to imagine becoming a queen, yes, I believe we will be exceedingly happy together." A full smile curved her lips. "And _yes_, he treats me _very_ well, with care and respect…and love."

A grunt escaped him, sounding one part acceptance and two parts dubious, his body language as he went back to inspecting the gems clearly conveying that he'd judge that for himself.

Blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, Ella turned back to her mending, a grin bright on her expression. Tying off the thread and snipping the excess, she folded and set in her basket the shirt she'd just finished with, the last item she needed to mend. She then stood, lifting the woven hamper and headed toward the door. On a whim, she leaned down to place a quick peck on Grumpy's cheek as she passed him, laughing inwardly at his sputtering behind her.

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Doro_

James was only just coming out of his haze of relief at Midas relenting, when he entered his room to find Liam wearing a trench in the rug in front of the fireplace.

The general's head snapped up at his prince's entrance. "Well?"

The prince cocked an eyebrow. "How is it you look more unsettled about this than I am?"

Liam scowled at him. "You have _your _lover sending you irritated notes every hour demanding to know if _your_ best friend has gotten his shit together so that he can propose to _her_ best friend–who is pregnant by said best friend–and tell me what mood _you're_ in."

Smirking, James let out a soft snort. "I have a feeling I'll be finding out soon enough," he muttered as he removed his doublet, moving to his desk chair where he draped the garment over the back.

"_Well_?!" Liam persisted, exasperation saturating his tone.

"Did you find a tailor we could have make those cloaks we need for the end of mourning ceremony?" the prince inquired off-handedly, smothering his amusement at the annoyed sound that escaped his friend.

"Damn it, James, are you _trying_ to give me an apoplexy?!"

Pretending to ignore Liam, he continued, "We're also going to have to make time to attend Abigail and Fredrick's wedding when they announce it."

His general went stock still and silent for several moments. "All right, first: Abigail and _Fredrick's_ wedding? Second: Who the _hell_ is Fredrick? And third… Do you mean what I _think_ you mean?!"

Stifling the grin that wanted to spread across his face, James turned to face Liam and began ticking off on his fingers. "Yes, Abigail and Fredrick's wedding. He's Midas' Champion. And I think their wedding would be a good possible first, or at least one of the first, occasions for Snow and I to attend as a married couple."

Liam remained silent a minute longer but then he threw his hands up and burst out, "_Thank the gods!_"

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Lochlomond_

"Phillip."

The prince looked up at his father's voice, his only living parent's worried gaze meeting his questioning one.

"Son…" the king seemed to fumble for words, "are you all right?"

Phillip scrambled to cover his reaction to the too honest question, tossing him a relatively–or at least as close as he could manage at the moment–careless grin his father's direction. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Hubert shook his head slowly, expression still deeply concerned. "You just haven't…seemed yourself since returning from Glenbriar… Did things go all right?"

The young man silently cursed himself. He _hated_ making his father worry like this about him, it wasn't good for his health and longevity. Phillip had sworn to his mother on her deathbed to take care of his father. Even at the age of 14 he'd known that Hubert would take the queen's death badly, and that the rein he'd kept on his excesses would be all but loosened with the death of his true love. For all of his pomp and posturing, Hubert worried about his only child excessively, his love running deep. As such Phillip had cultivated a blasé façade, like his father's, to try and stem the worry. However, slipping into that mindset had become progressively more difficult ever since he met Aurora again.

She wasn't at all what he'd been expecting, nor had her reaction to learning of Helen been what he'd thought it would be. That kiss… He'd been able to think of little else, the distraction driving him to further distraction. How the hell did this woman get to him so?!

Forcing his thoughts away from the golden-haired princess, Phillip worked up a more convincing smile. "It went just fine, Father."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"You know," his father took a few steps closer, concern unabated, "this betrothal…if you're really unhappy with it…we can call it off."

The prince's eyebrows shot up. "But joining our two kingdoms has been your wish for decades!"

"Not if it makes you truly unhappy, it isn't." He lay a hand on Phillip's shoulder. "The one thing I want most is your happiness, son."

A softness warmed the young man's heart, he swallowed back the lump that was forming in his throat. "Thank you, Father. But…I think Aurora and I are going to at least try to get to know each other again before making any…decisions." Hesitantly, he placed a hand atop his father's. "But I do appreciate the option."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Everland_

Ella was doing her level best to not burst out laughing at Red's frequent glares directed at the window and Snow's continued obliviousness to them, too preoccupied with the naming gown she was sewing, a small smile gracing her lips. The mother-to-be had been distracting herself from waiting for James' letter with small, unobtrusive preparations for the baby and the, much larger and more visible ones for the end of mourning and equinox. Ella, meanwhile, was using her amusement over her friends' vastly differing emotional states to distract herself from the impending possibility of being quite suddenly and publicly engaged to Thomas and being the future queen of Seaborn. It felt like dragons began flapping around in her stomach at the thought.

Red finally threw down the tomato she was slicing for dinner and cast a narrow-eyed glance at her surrogate sister. "How the _hell_ can you be so _calm_?!"

The barely-perceptible and immediately hidden tightening of Snow's lips and grip on the fabric was the only betrayal of the cracks in her serene façade.

"That's _your_ life being pretty much being decided out there _right now_!" The younger dark-haired woman waved a hand in the metaphorical direction of Doro.

Ella dropped her gaze fixedly to the shirt she was darning, trying _not_ to think how it was also a major part of _her_ life being decided as well, though she caught Snow's swift glance in her direction out of the corner of her eye. They hadn't yet told Red about the plan that would be carried out if Midas took offense.

The princess took a deep breath. "Things will work out however they will."

"Snow," Red plowed forward, "you're pregnant! And unmarried. And–"

Snow slammed her hands down on the table. "And I'm _painfully_ aware of _all_ of this, Red!" Green eyes glared furiously at hazel. "As you stated so plainly, it effects my life _directly_ and in a _major_ way! And to top it all off…there's nothing I can do about it!" Her jaw was set. "I'm stuck here, waiting for other people to make decisions that can possibly ruin my life and I have _no_ say!" One of Snow's hands had slipped under the table to gently squeeze one of Ella's, which had dropped to her lap, in quiet camaraderie. "But making a scene won't help! So, I'm trying to focus on productive outlets because constantly thinking about it certainly won't do me any good!"

Silence reigned thick and unchallenged in the room for several long moments. Ella could see that Red regretted upsetting her friend so, slowly the younger dark-haired woman opened her mouth, likely to apologize.

A messenger dove fluttered in through the window, settling in front of Snow.

The princess blanched and Ella could feel tremors wracking her friend through their joined hands. The blonde covered their clasped fingers with her other hand, squeezing tightly, trying to convey comfort, all the while fighting down her own panic.

Red's wide eyed gaze went from the bird to Snow and back again, eyeing the animal as if it were liable to attack them—unlikely given that the creature, unruffled by the tension rife around it, just lifted the leg the message was attached to toward Snow.

After an interminable pause, Snow finally reached her violently trembling hand to the tightly rolled parchment. It took a great deal of fumbling before she was finally able to flatten the letter enough to read, Ella couldn't decipher what it said from her position, but it wasn't long. Was that a good sign or a bad one?

Suddenly a laugh escaped Snow, and the blonde's eyes snapped to her friend to see relief spread across her face. Green eyes sparkling, the princess handed Ella the letter—more of a note really given its brevity, but she thought she might never have read two sentences that brought more relief than those:

_My Bandit Snow,_

_I will see you at the end of mourning ceremony. You and I are going to need to have a, more than likely, _very_ long discussion with our parents about how we're going to run two kingdoms together._

_All my love,_

_Charming_

Both laughing in joyous relief, Snow and Ella pulled each other into a tight hug.

Red reached over and snatched the letter from where it was still clutched in Ella's hand between Snow's shoulders, hazel eyes quickly skimming over the contents once, twice, three times, a confused frown overtaking her expression. She held up the parchment. "Do either of you want to explain why this, rather cryptic, note has you both ready to go dancing around the room?"

Neither of the other two women could stop the ensuing laughter that continued to ring out. It was several long minutes before the pair was calm enough to take a deep breath and explain everything.

Red's response was immediate and resounding. "_Finally_!"

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Riverdon_

No, Thomas hadn't been sitting for the last hour staring at the same page of a trade agreement with…what kingdom was it with?

Nope. He wasn't tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk and it's definitely not the beat of that dance James has become so fond of...some name in French, Flacon-something he thinks it's titled.

And his eyes _definitely_ haven't been straying to the window every few minutes all day.

…Damn it…

Where the _hell_ was James' messenger dove?!

Thomas shook his head in an attempt to clear it—something he knew was a futile effort, but he ignored the voice in the back of his head that pointed that out to him. He twirled a quill in the inkpot, Thomas hated how he couldn't seem to stop fidgeting, that he couldn't focus on his work. He hated having so little control over his life and future, hated how control had been ripped from Ella, the woman he loved who'd had so little control for so _very_ long.

Damn it all.

The young king-to-be glared at the pile of paperwork on his desk, as if it were at fault for his distress.

"OW!" He jerked his hand back at a sudden stinging sensation, a small drop of blood welled on his thumb. Thomas' eyes snapped to where his hand had been to find a dove cooing impatiently. Once it saw that it had his attention the bird nudged a small scroll toward him with its beak before flying off out the window.

Hesitantly, Thomas reached for the paper as if it were a dangerous thing, and it just might be. Taking a deep breath, he decisively unrolled the parchment and then felt the air leave him in a relieved whoosh, nearly slumping across his desk with the sensation at the very first sentence.

"Thank the gods," he gasped out. After several moments longer of silently sending up thanks to whatever deity had taken pity on him, he returned his attention to the rest of the note, mouth quirking up at his brother's not-so-subtle reference to James' impending proposal to Snow. He chuckled, "Well, big brother, I'm quite looking forward to seeing _that_ announcement."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

_Seaborn_

Ruth watched the scowl on her husband's face progressively deepen as he read the letter in his hands.

George was not an easy man, he wasn't one for coddling or soft words, his expressions of love and care were gruff and mostly wordless, and on the rare occasion when he did use words he never said it outright. Perhaps in her youth Ruth would've been disappointed by his ways, but time and the pain of loss had given her an understanding and easy acceptance of her second husband, and after so many years of marriage she found his rather taciturn personality almost comforting in its familiarity and predictability. And whatever George lacked in affection and warmth he made up for in respect, his own code of honor and the love he had for their sons. Ideally, Ruth would've preferred to not be a queen, but as a whole she was content in her life.

Now she just wondered what could have her husband looking so thunderous.

Finally, George threw the parchment down on his desk with a scoff of disgust.

"What's wrong, George?"

"James is trying to vex me," he growled.

The queen set aside her ledgers on her desk. "And what has he done to make you think so?"

"Your son went and called off the arrangement with Midas and Abigail entirely without consulting me!"

Ruth ignored the "your son," he called both their sons hers whenever they did something that frustrated him. "I doubt he was intentionally trying to upset you, dear. And you knew that he didn't really want to marry Abigail. As lovely a girl as she is, she doesn't really suit him."

"And what does that have to do with royal marriage?" George grumbled. "Few marriages amongst royalty have anything to do with personal preference or love."

"You loved Hannah," she quietly pointed out.

His lips pressed into a thin white line, gaze snapping off to the side, bottling everything up as he always did when his first wife, and true love, was mentioned. "He took a great risk turning down that alliance, Midas could've taken offense. If Abigail wasn't already interested in someone else we could've had a war on our hands."

Ruth rose from her seat and moved towards him. "I'm sure James weighed it all carefully and didn't just act on a whim." Stopping beside where he sat, a small smile lifted her lips. "And knowing James, he discussed it all with Abigail before they told Midas."

George continued to glare at a bookshelf in the corner. "Perhaps, but now whom shall he marry? He can't keep waiting around for the 'right' woman. He needs to find a wife and it needs to be sooner rather than later. His remaining single isn't good for the security of the kingdom."

She stifled the knowing grin that wanted to cross her face, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure he'll find someone soon enough."

He gave a doubtful grunt. "Well, he said we was going to attend the end of mourning for Lord Henry and the equinox festival in Everland. Perhaps he'll actually start looking around and find a woman there."

It took a couple of moments of choking back a laugh before Ruth was able to clear her throat and speak in a level tone. "Perhaps."

OUAT~OUAT~OUAT~OUAT

Sorry, yet again, for the brevity of the chapter! I just didn't feel right moving on to the next "chapter" of everything in this chapter! Because that's when things start _really_ rolling on an official front for Snowing...and other couples... ;-) I hope that it was still good! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!


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